From Hellsing With Love
by Genma no Ou
Summary: One year after the fight with Incognito, Hellsing's top 2 operatives face their most daunting assignment yet - and face ghosts from their pasts. Rated M for language, violence and some sexual content.
1. Order I

**Order I – Blood Orchid**

_From above the world and beyond the heavens, the blood-red moon illuminated the night over the English countryside, in a place that seemed serene and peaceful to those that beheld it by day. This night, however, shattered that notion and ground the pieces to dust; for with the events that transpired there, it seemed the moon had been dyed red from blood spatter._

_In the town of Liverpool, for several nights there had been outcry from the frightened and frustrated citizens over events they could not explain. Almost a week earlier, an organization claiming to be a branch of MI-5 had been established on the outskirts of town, alleging they were conducting surveillance training and weapons testing. As it turns out, nothing could have been farther from the truth; yet ironically, there was true merit in their words._

_Shortly after their arrival, dozens of homeless and prostitutes from the surrounding area vanished, going missing over a span of a mere 48 hours. Then, the attacks had started; many villagers reported that they had found loved ones dead, drained of all blood and dried out completely. In time over 100 villagers were dead. Or so they believed._

A lone scientist ran through the hallways of a large, empty facility as though his very life were in the balance. His face rang of true terror and fear for his life. Ever since he had been hired by the stranger, he had known that their research was dangerous and likely to cause them harm. Were he not so afraid, he would likely have laughed at the thought that even though he was right, the boss was likely not still alive to gloat to. And soon, neither would he be.

Reaching one of the stairwells on the 10th floor of the building, the man found himself tripping at the top of the stairs on spilled fluid. Tumbling, he fell in a spinning motion down all 15 stairs to the landing below, leaving him in the dark and completely without any sense of direction. He could feel blood pouring from his temple; and worse, he could hear the incessant moaning.

"_May God forgive me for what I have done."_ Initial tests on the 'patients' had yielded terrific results; from the saliva of a rare form of vampire bat, they had found cures for sexually-transmitted diseases previously incurable to so-called modern science. The drugs had worked magic; and though the early side effects of headache and dryness of mouth were annoying, they were well worth having one's syphilis or gonorrhoea treated and cured.

At least, that's what he had thought originally. Within several days of the first trial, the patients had exhibited new symptoms of fever, aggression and muscle spasm. As first he thought the sterilization had been compromised by the new and prototypal compound and had given them antibiotics. Within several hours, they had all died of heart attacks.

The very next day the coroners for the nearby town had been called, alerting them of the results of the trial. Nobody had expected this result, and certainly nobody had wanted it. With so many people dead, the trial should have been called a failure and scrapped. For whatever reason, the stranger had continued the project, with dire consequences.

The coroners never arrived to claim their decedents; instead, they had been cancelled by the boss, and another company was contracted to have the bodies buried. After that, villagers began dying of loss of blood, as though being victimized by some blood-sucking monster. Vampires, so the doctor thought, did not exist; they couldn't. Humans cannot metabolize blood, so nothing that was once human could be vampiric.

Now the horror of their mistakes had come back to haunt them. Earlier that night, 7 of the 22 deceased test subjects had returned, their skin pale and their eyes crimson red. Behind them, the wailing forms of dried-up, corpse-like beings. Zombies; something else that supposedly did not exist. The security force on site had been devastated, becoming victims of the test subjects and joining the ranks of the wailing, moaning monstrosities that followed them like rats.

Looking down towards the small light from lower down the stairwell, he could see the shuffling, slowly-moving outlines and glowing eyes that accompanied the wailing. Horror did not begin to describe the doctor's feelings; for he knew now that his time had come. He was being punished by Him for playing with His world; and he had no recourse but to accept judgment.

Within seconds, the shambling forms had made their way up the stairs to the floor below, continuing on their path towards the doctor and his flesh. Though he tried to crawl back away, with his legs broken there was no escape. He was going to die here, and he knew it. All that was left to do was make peace with God, and hope that He was as loving and forgiving as they said He was.

Again, however, the doctor was surprised to see that he was wrong; and this time, in a pleasant way. Zooming past the 8 or so shambling figures, a black blur passed around the doctor and stopped on the stairs just above him. Before the doctor could turn and see the party responsible, the bodies of the decaying army fell to pieces along deliberate slash marks that formed in several places. The end result was tumbling pieces of meat that fell down stairs, landing in the darkness below.

Finally averting his eyes from that spot, the doctor shifted his head and gazed upon his saviour. Standing on the steps, dressed in a full-body form-fitting black outfit with stiletto heels and matching gloves, a young girl with rather pale skin, strawberry-blonde hair, and bluish eyes looked down upon him in concern, showing that she was there to save him rather deliberately. "Are you alright, sir?" she asked softly and kindly. "You weren't bitten by them, were you?"

"N-no m-madam," the man replied, his voice shaky but his word still polite. "No, they didn't get a hold of me just yet; but I fear they would have if you'd been any longer. I'm dearly grateful to you, miss…"

"Seras," the girl replied, flashing the man a small smile. "Seras Victoria." Reaching to her side, she produced a small handgun and gave it to the man, saying, "You should hold onto this, and use it to protect yourself. Allies of mine will he arriving soon with medical supplies; but I have to deal with the entire ghoul outbreak in the meantime, so I can't stay and protect you."

"Are you sure miss Victoria?" the doctor offered, trying to be chivalrous even to an assassin. "Don't you need this gun in tackling this… this outbreak? I mean… I know you're certainly a professional, but is it wise to disarm yourself in a manner like this?"

"I have plenty more weapons," Seras explained, reaching into her other pocket and producing an entire set of 10 throwing knives, each with the Holy Cross carved onto the tips of the blades. "But with your leg broken, you need that gun more than I do." Reaching down, Seras wiped some of the blood away from the doctor's glasses and adjusted them for him, in the process getting blood on her hand. "I'll check on you again when I'm done."

"Thank you, miss Victoria," the man told Seras, smiling as the girl turned and jumped up the floor he had come from. Bursting through the door, Seras placed her knives back in her pocket, and took a second to lick the blood from her hand. She was starving, having lost a lot of energy from the raid; but she could not bring herself to feed on an innocent human. For now, she would simply snack on a wound.

With the taste of blood ion her mouth, her eyes immediately returned to their normal crimson colour; and with that she grabbed the throwing knives, placing 5 in each hand, and she started down the first hallway. Immediately she was met by about 20 ghouls that all reacted to her presence by advancing. Though ghouls were faster than one would expect of the dead, they paled in comparison to a Nosferatu like Seras.

Immediately Seras fanned the throwing knives within her hands and threw them, her arms going in swinging arcs. The knives each embedded in the forehead of a ghoul, causing them to fall to the ground, eternally silenced. Since the Incognito incident, it had become policy for Hellsing employees to carry blessed weapons other than guns; blessed throwing knives were an easy choice.

"Let's dance, boys," Seras then challenged confidently, reaching over her shoulders in an x-formation and producing two katanas. Each of these weapons was a standard-issue weapon, steel-iron alloy blade; but the handles were silver, shaped like the cross, and carried the blessing of an Anglican priest. Jumping forwards, Seras used her two weapons and sliced the heads off 6 more ghouls, her heels going straight through two more of them and smashing their brains against the walls.

Turning around, she saw the two ghouls behind her spin around, preparing to move for her again. Once again, however, they came up short; using her powers, Seras raised her right hand and brought the knives back to her, pulling them from their victims' flesh and pulling them back straight through the remaining two. In both bases the knives passed straight through the heart of the ghoul, meaning that by the time Seras grabbed her weapons they had silenced the targets.

Turning back in the right direction, Seras was quick to continue running down the hallway, re-sheathing her swords and putting her hunting knives back in place. Before long she came across a feeding place where 5 ghouls, and 3 vampires, were bent over a series of dead and mangled corpses of scientists from the facility. All 3 of the vampires were prostitutes, women dressed in the clothes of their profession; and when they saw that Seras was there, each of them turned and stood up to face her.

Licking their lips at the pretty young Draculina, each of the three rogue vampires before her looked unsatisfied with such a simple, meaningless kill. The only meal they desired was vampire blood, a treat no vampire could refuse. Instead of showing fear, however, Seras saw a flash of crimson out of the corner of her eye and issued, "Have at me, ladies."

Each one of the three vampires made a face like a cat ready to pounce, their elongated nails and fangs bared and ready to attack the prey. This meant nothing, however; for as the three of them pounced, a flash of red zoomed by the other end of the hall, accompanied by three gunshots. Each one of the heads of the vampiresses exploded, splattering blood and brains all over the walls; and as the bodies fell to the floor, they simply dissolved into piles of blood-red sand.

Wasting no time, Seras reacted to this by producing one of her swords again; this time, she swung it with lethal precision, decapitating all 5 ghouls in one motion. Not wanting to waste any more time than she already had, she replaced the weapon on her back and jumped upwards, using her powers to simply pass through the ceiling and land on the next floor. _"I need to quit forgetting that I don't need to take the stairs anymore."_

When she landed on this floor, the only thing she saw was darkness, as well as four more piles of blood-red sand strewn around. That meant 7 in total had been eliminated; and since only 7 of the 22 victims had become vampires (the rest, she suspected, had in fact become prey for them and thus changed into ghouls instead), that meant that there were to be no more ghouls here.

"Hold it right there!" a voice issued from behind Seras, causing her to gasp in surprise. The voice that spoke had a distinct Asian accent, North Korean she believed; and as she turned around, she saw that the man before her was in fact dressed in a North Korean military uniform. But more importantly than that, he held up a sub-machine gun pointed at Seras; and from the inscriptions on the side, it was likely the bullets were silver and blessed.

"You have no idea how much trouble you've caused me, Hellsing concubine," he issued, indication for her to step to the wall with his gun. Once she was there, he stepped and positioned himself right in front of her, reaching to her back and taking her swords. As he moved to take her knives as well, she noticed that his skin was flesh-tone and his eyes dark brown; this man was no vampire, but he was some kind of monster. "My boss wanted these vampires tomorrow; and now what do I tell him?"

"Let's start with you telling me some things," Seras said boldly, actually surprising the North Korean given the situation. "I know you're not with MI-5 like you told the Municipal Government here; after all, Yon Kai, defection from Kim Jong-Il is a death offence." As the man snarled from the girl's use of his name she added, "What did you think; that Hellsing wouldn't investigate the vampires?"

"The vampires were never supposed to get so out of hand like they did," Kai explained sternly, insulted as though she had actually criticized his work. "Everything was planned so perfectly; with the Freak Chips monitored, then using injections was the perfect method of vampire production. Using the useless members of society gave us easy scapegoats; after all, nobody misses drug addicts and whores. The one thing we didn't count on was the vampires being so hungry."

"You didn't expect that vampires would drink so much blood?" Seras questioned disbelievingly. "Vampire bats drink half their weight in blood in one night. For a man of science like you, that's a pretty basic fact-checking error."

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH TO ME, VAMPIRE BITCH!" Kai screamed, pointing the gun between Seras' eyes and gaining a look of unbelievable rage. "The problem was not the volume, but the impatience. Previous research said that the vampires would rest after their first two or so victims; so after they devoured the other test subjects, they should have been satiated. But because our base was late to pick them up…"

"The coroners you contracted out," Seras deduced, remembering the details she had been told. "You were going to sneak the vampires back to North Korea. And then what? Use them as weapons against the United States? Did you learn nothing from the failures of Projects Sturgeon and Cherry Blossom?"

"Those fools experimented only with ghoul production," Kai explained, his expression shifting all at once to one of sadistic victory. "Producing vampires is a whole new step. And we have your Hellsing Organization to thank for that. After all, you gave us the idea of using vampires. That's right, Seras Victoria; North Korea is using Great Britain as its templar. How does that feel?"

"_The idea of a loose cannon bastard country like yours using our techniques sickens me,"_ a deep, strong voice echoed seemingly from all around them. As Kai looked up to observe the location of the sound, a red glowing sigil with several symbols around a pentagram and adorned with Latin writing appeared on the ceiling, spinning; and determining its meaning to be something Seras had done, he repositioned the gun.

"Time for you to go to hell, stinky bitch!" the man yelled, reaching for the trigger and starting to press it. Seras let out a small yelp of fear as he started the process; but a second later, a flash of red consumed the man entirely. A fraction of a second later, the sound of the gun went off, but with no bullet to hit Seras; instead, the red light withdrew from around the man, revealing yet another figure to have joined the fray.

Standing behind Kai, a man at least 6'6" stood, a sadistic grin on his mouth showing his fangs. Most of his face was hidden by red sunglasses and a matching fedora; he also wore a red trench coat over a black riding suit and boots, as well as white gloves bearing the symbol of the now-vanished sigil. The man had his left arm around Kai's chest, pinning his arms at his side and thus aiming his gun down; and his right hand held a long black handgun, labelled "Jesus Christ is in Heaven Now", against the man's temple.

"I see I was just in the nick of time, Police Girl," the new male vampire issued, speaking in a rather confident and snide manner. "Had I waited any longer, I'd be looking for a new partner. I trust that you eliminated all the ghouls?"

"Every single one of them," Seras told the man, smiling and giving him a thumbs up. "And I can see that you've already taken care of the vampires. Did you find any survivors?"

"20, I believe. Two of them were bitten by ghouls and had to be put down; the rest suffered more minor injuries and are awaiting medical treatment. Now then, I take it I don't need to hold him here and wait for you to go change your pants; so unless something else needs to be addressed, we can begin our interrogation."

Looking down, Seras saw the three small holes in Kai's leg, which were now letting off some blood; as well as a small chip out of the concrete floor. When Kai was pinned, his gun must have gone off at his feet, fragmenting and digging into his leg. "Ah yes, let's," Seras decided, looking back at Kai. "But first, I'd like to introduce to you, Kai, my Master and Hellsing's lead agent; Alucard."

"I know who this guy is," Kai responded harshly, prompting Alucard to press his gun harder against the man's temple and place a tighter grip on the trigger. "Go ahead, shoot me! You'll never get anything out of me that way!"

"Don't be too sure about that, punk," Alucard hissed. In less than a second he repositioned the gun against Kai's neck and pulled the trigger. The bullet grazed Kai's neck, missing both his carotid artery and jugular vein and embedded in the wall; and after that blood began to pour from his neck, which Alucard began to lap up with his long tongue.

Looking back at Seras, who had moved away from the wall, Alucard turned Kai in the same direction to face her, returning his gun to its position against the man's temple. "This guy's blood tastes like pig shit; and what's more, he has no valuable information. He's nothing but a grunt for Kim Jong-Il; he knows nothing more that he needs to know. Some brilliant scientist; he's a fraud."

"I'm the fraud, Alucard?" Kai asked disbelievingly. "What about you Alucard? What sort of example are you? You're a vampire, a creature of the night and a servant of Satan; and yet, you dare to hide behind the mask of holiness. You work for the Queen of England and a Protestant Organization. How can you sell yourself so short of your true potential? Join us, and we'll use you to the best of your abilities."

"Let's get one thing straight, punk; I don't give a shit about the Queen or her church," Alucard growled at him. "But this bullshit you've drummed up has gotten my Master in a stir. That woman is who allows me to exist and feed without the tedious task of isolating or protecting myself; and I owe everything to her for letting me out of that cell they had me in. And then, as though that weren't enough, you had the gall to corner and threaten my partner, my blood; and after all that, you expect me to join you? I'd sooner set up shop in Satan's basement."

"Then in that case," Kai told him gaspingly, showing restraint for his anger, "I'll give you the chance to do just that!" With reflexes to shame a cat, Kai bent his arm up and back so that his gun was pointed straight down at Alucard, ready to place a holy round in the vampire's skull. In awaiting the next event, Seras closed her eyes and listened for the sound of a gunshot.

Instead, a second later, she heard the sound of bones snapping and flesh tearing. Opening her eyes, she could see that in fact Alucard had been faster; he had moved his left arm and pushed it straight through Kai's head, back to front, resembling a stiff-arm salute as the man's head splattered all over the walls in a grotesque fashion.

Pulling his arm free from the man's face, Alucard was fast enough to grab the man's corpse by the shoulder, pocketing his own weapon while he grabbed the man's machine gun from off the floor. Looking over it for a second, he the pointed it at the window and pulled the trigger, watching as a spray of bullets left the gun and destroyed the window. "I think I'll keep this."

Watching as Seras turned to leave, a sadistic smile came over Alucard's face and he yelled, "Police girl!" Once she had started to turn to face him, he threw Kai's dead body straight at her, making her squeak like a mouse before she caught the body with her right hand. When she threw him an angry glare, Alucard explained without changing his expression, "You did a lot of work tonight; you should eat and regain your strength. Unless of course, you're squeamish about sharing food with me."

Looking at Alucard and then at the dead body in front of her, Seras had an almost disgusted look on her face. Putting aside even his grotesque condition and the fact that he was already starting to stink, Alucard had just told her that his blood tasted terrible. A second later, however, her stomach let out an audible rumble and she sighed, turning her attention to the neck wound. As she pressed her lips to the injury, she began to suck the blood, prepared for the horrid taste; but instead, she was confronted with something that didn't taste all that off. "I thought you said it was awful."

"You're surprised?" Alucard mused. "It's much more entertaining this way." Hearing a sound from outside the window, he then walked over to it; and looking outside he issued to her, "Our cleanup crew has arrived. Join me when you've finished your dinner." Upon saying that, Alucard stepped through the broken window, his coat billowing as he fell straight down in a soldier's position. Once he reached the ground, he turned his attention to a man in a black uniform; and stepping up to him, he told the man, "Mission complete."

"I'm not Ferguson, Alucard," the man corrected, indicating a gold name plaque which read 'Cotford'. "I know full well that you wouldn't even be out here unless the job was done. Unless you want to fill out the paperwork, I need details for the report. Now, can you try that again with a little less brevity and a few more specifics?"

"Very well," Alucard told him, his hat and sunglasses disappearing and revealing his red eyes as he moved to continue. "7 vampires were found, all originating from the experiment; all were terminated. 115 townsfolk, including the other 15 test subjects, were found to be ghouls; all were terminated. There are 30 human survivors in the building; in addition, 13 were killed as a result of ghoul attacks, 2 needed to be terminated before becoming zombies, and 1 North Korean operative was killed by me in self-defence. Is that enough detail?"

"For now, that will be sufficient," Cotford told him, jotting down the numbers he had given with a pen and notebook. "If I need anything more from you, I'll come get an official statement." After he finished, he looked up at the vampire and asked, "Where is Seras? I'll be needing her statement as well?"

"She's stuffing her face after a hard battle," Alucard answered defensively. "She'll be down shortly. In the meantime, I suggest you focus on the humans first; Seras can wait, but some of the humans' injuries need attending to ASAP."

"I am aware of how to do my job, Alucard," Cotford told him. "But I thank you for that bit of information." Turning to about 15 men in white outfits, 12 with stretchers and the other 3 armed with surgical kits, he barked out, "Alright men, we have 30 seriously injured on multiple floors! Get to it now!" Without missing a beat the men moved into action, rushing in through the ajar doors to the compound.

"You know Cotford," Alucard said, his sunglasses and fedora rematerializing, "when I first met you, I thought there was no way we'd get along. Clearly I was wrong. You're a man of dedication and passion, not unlike I was in life. I think we'll get along just fine."

"Well let's see," Cotford answered, thinking aloud. "Provided you continue to respect protocol and my men remain off your lunch menu… yes, we'll get along just fine." Tipping his hat, Cotford issued to Alucard, Good night to you, sir," before he stepped off into the building as well. Having ended that, Alucard stepped towards some nearby trees, past all vehicles and men, staring up at the moon.

"_In my life, I was a soldier of God and a crusader for my people,"_ he lamented, recalling when he had been alive. _"Now, even after I have died, I find that I am still in the exact same role…"_

In a dimly-lit office, a tanned, blonde woman dressed in a green leisure suit complete with a red decorative tie and a gold cross fixture sat, looking at a series of documents placed before her while she drank from a wine glass. Putting the glass down, she scanned the papers before her through her glasses, the glare of which obstructed her eyes. She had seen no end of paperwork as of late; it was becoming rather tiring and bothersome, even for an administrator like her.

Suddenly, the sound of air moving got her attention, and he looked up from her paperwork. Turning closing her eyes, she smirked and said, "You've made good time, Alucard. I trust then that the mission was a complete success?" Sneering, the red-clad vampire stepped out around the desk, positioning himself directly in front of her.

Looking down at her desk, he became interested in a single object in the room as Seras also materialized beside him. Curled up on the desk, a small smoky-grey tabby was curled up, purring in the presence of its owner; and reaching forward softly, Seras petted the cat and scratched behind its ears lovingly. When Alucard reached to do the same thing, the cat simply turned and hissed at him. "Lousy flea-bag," he muttered. "What's his problem with me?"

"Maybe your familiars are barking at it too loudly," the green-clad woman issued. "Cats don't like dogs all that much, remember? Now I'll ask again, how was the-" the woman's question got cut off at that point when a cat-like being jumped out of the shadows onto Alucard, pinning him to the floor. The beast was the size of a panther, entirely constructed of shadow, and covered in green eyes.

"What the hell is this?" Alucard asked, taking his left hand and pushing the best up into the air. As it started back down from the ceiling it simply faded away back into the body of the cat, as though it had never been there. Getting up, Alucard stared down at the cat again and asked, "What is this thing? It's like no cat I've ever seen."

"It's a Kinka-Byou," the green-clad woman said, looking down at it herself. "It's a Youkai, a demon from Japanese mythology that can project a shadowy double of itself, many times its own size. It was a gift from the Japanese ambassador after you solved that case last month. To be honest I don't fully understand the meaning of the gift; but I suppose Shintoists are hard to understand."

"A demon that can project its shadows as a familiar?" Alucard asked intently, staring at the creature with a goofy smile on his face. "I'm intensely amused."

"Master, you really need to find a hobby," Seras told Alucard, whose expression did not change and who did not even bother to look up from the being before him. "Am I right, Master Integra?"

"Indeed," the dark-skinned woman replied. "Now Alucard, I ask you again," she added forcefully, finally getting the attention of the male vampire, "how did the mission go?"

"It doesn't come much simpler," he answered smugly. "It was so simple early on, Master Integra, that I almost thought you were trying to bore me to death. That is, until I discovered the importance of the mission."

"Come now Alucard, I've never bore you like that intentionally," Integra told him, reaching for her wine glass and taking another sip. "I know how difficult it is to stay entertained anymore. The renovations at Hellsing manor are taking long enough as it is; but these MI-6 suits are making everything that much more tedious with their rules. But I digress; I need details, for that is my entertainment these days."

"That North Korean scumbag Yon Kai found a way to make vampires without FREAK Chips," Alucard told her, taking out his black gun and another, light grey gun and placing both on the table. "He produced a serum disguised as a Retro Antiviral, and used it on unwitting test subjects. It got out of hand, he accidentally made ghouls, blah, blah, blah. Fortunately, he's dead now, and so are his little pets."

"North Korea is a powerful foe, Alucard," Integra warned. Don't take them too lightly. However, if you speak true and the enemy vampires have been silenced, then there is less cause for concern. I will alert our division at the UN Security Council and make them aware of the threat; and it should be dealt with swiftly. Job well done, Alucard."

"Technically, the job isn't really done until North Korea's entire project is silenced," another male voice issued. Opening the door to the office, a man in a business suit and white smoking jacket entered. His face was covered in permanent stubble, his eyes were glassy and dark green, and his steel grey hair completed the robot-like look of the man.

"And to what do we owe the pleasure of a visit from Director John Orelock, director of MI-6's V-Branch?" Alucard questioned, his arms crossed and his sunglasses reflecting orange from the light outside. "You still don't trust us enough to leave us be after a mission? Or are you worried we might liven this place up a bit?"

"Your sense of humour never ceases to annoy me, Alucard," Orelock answered, producing a folder from behind his back. "But I'm here to deliver you a case, actually. The French Government has requested the help of the Hellsing Agency specifically in dealing with a rash of serial killings."

"A serial killer?" Seras questioned, cocking her head and raising an eyebrow. "What makes them suspect vampires are involved?"

"Every single victim has been killed, drained of all blood, stripped naked, posed as Da Vinci's Vitruvian Man, and surrounded by satanic sigils in black paint." With this answer given, he placed the file on the desk and opened it up, showing the crime scene photos to all 3 other parties present. "Very little evidence is left; and this combined with the lack of blood screams vampire."

"These markings here," Alucard pointed, indicating the common runes at each crime scene. "They're from the Seal of Nosferatu, an ancient text on vampires. The thing is, humans and FREAKs cannot read them; only a true undead can decipher their meaning." Smiling darkly, Alucard added, "Finally, freedom from this boring regime. After losing Incognito a year ago, I finally have another original to play with."

"Yes, well, Alucard," Orelock stepped in, indicating the door. "As part of the agreement between MI-6 and Hellsing, this will be a joint operation; however, given that the French requested you personally, you will lead and my agents will follow your instructions." Turning to face the door, he yelled, "Agents Connery, Moore, Brosnan! Enter and stand at attention!"

With this given command, three tall, thin men in black suits entered the room, standing at attention beside Orelock. The first of them, Connery, was the oldest and had greying temples on his jet-black hair; the second, Moore, had brown hair, and was somewhat younger-looking; and the last, Brosnan, had reddish-brown hair, indicating Celtic descent. But most interesting was that they all had crimson eyes.

"I see they don't call you V-Branch for nothing," Alucard declared, picking up his guns off Integra's desk and placing them back on his person. "But you know by now that I don't work with just any special agent. I need to see some details on all three of them, or else you can find me some new agents."

"Supervisory Special Agent Thomas Connery," the eldest agent issued, his voice tinged lightly with a Scottish accent. "12 years with MI-6, 8 of those with the V-Branch. Special Agents Moore and Brosnan each have 10 years with us, also 8 years with V-Branch. We have been ordained by the Protestant Church itself." Holding up his gun., he added, "Silver bullets, carved with the cross and polished in holy water. Even you would choke on one of these, Alucard."

Crossing his arms and sneering at the men, Alucard chuckled and finally declared, "I'm quite pleased with these agents. I'll gladly work with them provided that they agree to work under me and not over my head." When each of the men nodded in reply, Alucard added, "Then it's agreed. Seras and I will go with your agents here."

"Your plane leaves tomorrow morning at 0800 Hours sharp," Orelock explained, signalling for the agents to leave the room. "Be ready for departure from London Airport. Now, assuming we're done here, Integra and I have administrative measures to discuss." Following this command, Alucard and Seras both started out of the room. When they had gotten a few doors down, Seras issued,

"Master, I know that even though you put on that face, you still have some apprehension about you. Is it that you don't speak French? Because I can translate for you; I'm fluent in French, you see."

"Very perceptive Police Girl," Alucard told her, "But you have the reason wrong. I can speak French just fine, along with English, Romanian and 7 other languages. No, communication is no barrier. The issue is that France is a Catholic Country; and given that vampires are suspected there, _he_'s sure to be there." Emphasizing the word 'he', Alucard gave Seras an exact impression of who he meant.

"Its' not like you to be scared of him, though," Seras retorted, sensing immediately that there was more to it than her former master let on. "That can't be it at all."

"I have no fear of that man whatsoever. It's more that… if I meet up with him again, I have to keep my word and kill him. And if I do that, then lose the only human I have left to play with. For me, that's a sadder thought than dying again."

"I can see where you're coming from on that," Seras responded, knowing the volatile yet fulfilling relationship the two had. Turning away from the red-clad vampire, she watched him continue off in the direction of the firing range; and turning down another hallway, she headed for her quarters. 

Meanwhile, back in the office, Orelock closed the doors and turned back to the Protestant Knight in the room. Approaching the desk, he looked the woman straight in the eye and then asked rather bluntly of Integra, "How much longer will Hellsing be enjoying our hospitality? You see, if you're going on this mission, I need to know how much longer your crew will be occupying my men's quarters."

"We will only be residing at V-Branch for a few more days," Integra assured, looking up at the Director with an indifferent look on her face. "The work on the Manor is almost finished; and somehow I doubt any of us intend to stay away from our homes longer than we have to. Why? Are you finally glad to be rid of us?"

"Hardly. Once you leave, then we can't write you off our taxes as a business expense." After both figures got a light chuckle out of this, Orelock added, "Besides, you and the company you keep are rather quite enjoyable; even that smug snake Alucard." Looking down at the wine glass on Integra's desk, he asked, "May I? It's been a long day and I'm thirsty."

"Certainly," Integra told him, indicating the glass. Stepping over to Integra's desk, he picked up the glass and moved it to his lips, wondering what he would taste. He was expecting perhaps a smooth merlot, or even a chateau with a woman as classy as Integra; but upon tasting the contents, he was forced to spot them back out into the glass.

Handing it back to her, he wiped his mouth and came all at once to recognize the iron-like taste. "Is that… blood?" With an amused expression on her face, Integra's smile answered the question for him; and from that, he put together a rather shocking idea. "Then you are…"

Taking the glass, Integra simply pressed it to her own lips and drank then entire half-glass in one swig. Looking forward at the man, she then pulled off her glasses – which she only really wore for decoration anymore – and revealed to him her crimson eyes. Glaring at him in a cheeky smile with them, she simply commented, "It took you long enough to catch on, Lester."

The Director was fast to get over the shock of the situation set before him, eventually smirking in a sarcastic way and saying to her, "How silly of me. Of course you're Nosferatu; after all, for what other reason would Home Office be so interested in you?"

"It's more of a cover-up than anything else, to be brutally honest with you," the blond woman answered, reaching into the drawer of the desk and producing a cigar and a lighter. "You see, Parliament is hell-bent on removing any evidence of the Convention of Twelve as part of the New Renaissance. Even Her Majesty aided in the destruction of the bureaucracy. The only reason my organization was spared is because we aided in the salvation of England."

"It must be such a contrast from what it was before," Orelock pondered, watching Integra place her cigar in her mouth and then light it before returning her Zippo lighter to the desk drawer. "Just over a year ago, you were one of the most powerful people in the entire United Kingdom, stronger even than the Prime Minister. Now you're essentially the leader of a defence agency; and were that not enough, now you're being outsourced to the French."

"Actually, I find the idea rather liberating," Integra told her partner, again reaching into her desk as she spoke. This time, she produced a bottle of scotch and a glass, into which she poured some of the alcohol before handing it to the MI-6 Director. "There's now no longer any need for secrecy, and the burden of national decision-making is lifted from my shoulders."

"Personally," Orelock said, taking a drink front the scotch he had been handed, "I simply prefer the idea of an elected leadership of our country, as opposed to an aristocracy nobody is supposed to even know about. Then again, I am a civil servant, so I suppose it does seem rather more honest to be working for who they actually say I am."

"Honestly, being a member of the Convention of Twelve used to actually mean something," Integra reminisced, taking a drink of her own glass while looking off in one direction, as though trying to focus on a long-lost memory. "We did our best to put the needs of England, its people and its Church first. I'm simply ashamed that one of our own sold out their country to a terrorist group."

"Did they ever identify which of the Round Table Members was responsible?" When Integra gave the Director a knowing look but said nothing, he simply said in a self-berating manner, "Of course, how silly of me. Her Majesty swore you all to secrecy. Let me ask this then: are there any new leads on the group responsible for the siege?"

"Well, since none of the missions you sent my people on in the last year have yielded anything," Integra informed, "we had no choice but to send Walter to The Dark Continent, in order to find answers personally. Given the use of a weapon by ArmsCor, we deduced that South Africa was involved; until, of course, we learned that the type of weapon used is a custom model used by the Egyptian Military."

"And to think I always enjoyed Egypt," Orelock thought before taking another swig of the liquor. "Well, I will arrange for a courier service to return all of your belongings to the Hellsing manor when the time comes for you to depart. I'll just need 24 hours notice. Of course, if you change your mind and wish to stay…"

"You're overstretching your bounds, James Lester," Integra told her counterpart, actually causing the man to blink at the use of his full name. "We will be returning to our home regardless of your continued hospitality. That being said, I do have admiration for who may be the only human left in charge of an agency of the Undead. If you wish to join us…"

"I'm afraid I cannot take you up on that offer," Orelock told her. "Then I suppose this is the last we will be seeing of each other until the Government sees fit to partner us up again. Until then…" With that the man downed the last of his scotch and placed the glass on Integra's desk before opening the door, stepping out into the hallway and closing the door behind him.

Standing at the end of a dimly-lit hallway in the firing range, Alucard remained in the shadows, sneering as he reached into his two side-pockets. Into his left hand, he drew his massive black pistol, and with his right a similarly-sized silver gun, much like an old-fashioned Colt. Looking down the range, he could see very clearly his objective; and as such, he saw no reason to hesitate any longer.

In a motion faster than any human could have done, he took off in a marathon sprint, extending each of his arms with the guns in their hands pointed at targets on opposite sides. Without stopping to look, he fired each gun simultaneously, impacting twelve of twelve targets on either side of his before the slides pulled back and the empty magazines dropped to the floor.

At the end of the hallway, Alucard stopped and examined his guns, before a woman clad in a skirt-suit stepped into the room with a stopwatch in her hand. Gazing down at the display, she told the vampire, "Impressive. You've shaved 137 milliseconds off your previous time, and as usual you have a 100% hit rate."

"You flatter me Abby," the vampire told the woman, turning to her and looking at her hazel eyes and light brown hair. Reaching into his pockets, he produced silver and black twelve-shot magazines and loaded them into their respective guns before simply placing them back in his pockets. "I had an excellent gunsmith. Walter gave me the tools; all I have to do is implement them."

"Nonetheless, you still implement them with more proficiency and skill than any human could ever dream of," Abby answered. "Oh, I almost forgot; we have a brand new model for you to test out."

"Yet another one?" the vampire asked in a bored tone. "You can keep throwing these prototypes at me all you want, my dear; but for precision, balance, accuracy, power and ultimately nostalgia, the Jackal is by far the best weapon I've ever used." Looking down at the black gun in his hand, he noted, "In fact, it was such a good gun that even Walter couldn't rebuild it properly."

"Then perhaps we'll simply have to wow you with sheer size and brute force," Abby responded, walking over to a table to one side of the range, followed closely by Alucard. Already waiting on the table, a massive gun case sat waiting; and next to it, a single bullet stood on its end, but this bullet was the width of Alucard's thumb and its case the length of his index finger.

"Tell me, are you familiar with the 700-series Nitro Express?" When Alucard looked back with an intrigued, but blank-looking smile, she explained to him, "It's the largest bullet made, normally used as a hunting rifle round for big game. The bullets are charged with Nitrocellulose for a better firing. Now, imagine if you will a handgun loaded with a twelve-shot magazine of these."

"Really?" Alucard questioned, looking down at the case before him. "I'd imagine a gun of that size would need to be at least 50cm in length."

"Try 75, with 60 of that as the barrel." Watching Alucard's eyes open wider in sheer childish amazement, Abby unlatched the lid with both hands simultaneously and lifted it up, giving Alucard an eyeful of the massive contents of the case. "So tell me, if we cannot best your Walter's gun for nostalgia, will this do as a runner-up?"

"Yes, I believe it will," Alucard declared, closing the lid on the case and latching it before hoisting the gun into his hand. "I should be able to get some major use out of this weapon during the mission. Once again I find myself thanking you for your time and effort, dear Abby." Smiling and bowing, the girl showed her appreciation while the vampire stepped out of the room; however, instead of leaving, he stopped to get out one last statement.

"Tell me; I sent Walter a weapon to be customized some time ago, a project which he was unable to complete before his assignment," the vampire mentioned, immediately getting an understanding hum from the woman. "After it got transferred over to MI-6's weapons' makers, I never heard about it again."

"Yes, I'm quite aware of the weapon in question," Abby interpreted. "You'll be happy to know that the firearm in question has indeed been completed; and Director Orelock has requested it added to the equipment to take to France. I believe that it has been already taken with the other luggage to the airport."

"Excellent. That will be sufficient for now. Good night Abby." With that final pleasantry, Alucard again started off into the darkness of the building, dematerializing before he got very far down the hallway. Looking back at where he had been with a smile, the woman likewise turned and started down the hallway, slipping off into the night.

The explosion of a supposedly-indestructible wall within a laboratory at Pyong-Yang, North Korea, signalled to the scientists inside that the time had come for them to flee. Putting down vials of serums and blood samples, many of which they had been in the process of extracting or treating, they tried to run for the doorway, only for it to burst open violently.

Both at the doorway and from the wall, men in green military uniforms and carrying large weapons – assault rifles, machine guns, MGLs, and anything else whoever assigned them could think of – which were all focussed on the scientists, whose only response was to raise their arms in the universal sign of surrender. Looking at the men's uniforms, the American flag was easily visible on their chests, showing exactly who had sent them.

Immediately following them, three men in black suits stepped into the room via the exploded wall. The first man was middle-aged, his beginning-to-grey black hair and the lines around his eyes giving away a history of many years. Behind him, the other two were much larger and younger-looking, wearing sunglasses and earpieces and holding their arms in a crossed position.

"Well, that was a brilliant show in Liverpool, wasn't it?" the man asked sarcastically of the Korean scientists, most of whom spoke English and thus felt the impact of everything he said. "Good attempts at creating Ghouls, even vampires. Rather impressive, actually; I honestly never thought your work would yield results so easily. Yet somehow, a lab full of pencil pushers like you didn't have the foresight to realize that Hellsing would become involved; and that was because…"

"Please sir, you must understand," one of the scientists offered up, stepping forward and risking the added guns pointed at him. "The implementing of our work: not our doing. Yon Kai, he did everything. The mess in Liverpool, all his doing. We just made the serum, that's all. Please, sir; we did exactly as you requested of us."

"Yes, and I saw the results of that," the American responded, just barely keeping his anger in check. "An entire hospital full of ghouls and vampires. A _whole_ fucking hospital… and two Hellsing agents, just two," he repeated, and held up two fingers for emphasis, "destroyed the whole lucking lot of them. That's fucking useless to me."

"No, please, sir, you can't…" the scientists started, but was immediately opened fire upon by no less than five men with machine guns, filling his body will bullets until pieces of his limbs and torso began to explode into clouds of blood and meat.

"Oh, yes I can," the man reiterated, ensuring the men were aware of what he was getting at. "Project Second Life is now terminated, as are all of you." Snapping his fingers, the man told his troops to open fire on all of the remaining scientists, reducing them in mere seconds to a mass of chipped meat and shell casings. Several magazines dropped to the floor afterwards, prompting the soldiers to reload their guns.

"I want no proof this place ever existed," the man finally stated, turning and walking out of the room through the hole in the wall, followed by the two bodyguards. Most of the troops then exited right afterwards; but a few hung around long enough to throw timer-activated pipe bombs into the room, before they took off full sprint.

Less than a minute later, the man walked along the top of the building with his bodyguards, hair blowing as the spinning rotors of helicopters filled the air with noise. With troops now pouring out of the building behind him, he stepped into one of the choppers with his men and the door closed, allowing the helicopter to take off.

One by one, the rest of five much larger helicopters filled with sixty men, allowing them to take off mere seconds before a massive explosion blasted throughout the building below. Looking down through the window, the man looked down on the ensuing fireball with a satisfied smile on his face, while he thought, _"Next time, I'll ensure that not even Hellsing – no, not even Alucard – can stop my project from succeeding…"_


	2. Order II

**Order II – Harvest Moon **

_Darkness filled the rooms on the upper floor of the large manor in the Countryside of England, old and battered to the point of abandonment; the only thing to break the otherwise black setting being the light of the orange harvest moon outside, shining through the window. Far away from that, relics of a bygone era – a lit oil lamp, a gramophone and many old black-and-white photographs – sat on an old desk, the wood mouldy and rotting._

_On the floor of the old room, no carpet or hardwood adorned it; instead, a damp and musty bed of earth lay there, covering every square inch of the surface, even that which the furniture stood on. In the corner of the room opposite the desk, an old-fashioned four-poster bed frame stood, decayed and neglected by the passage of time. No mattress or anything of the sort remained; instead, a wooden box – a coffin – had been mounted in its place, leaving the frame more for decoration than purpose._

_The coffin on the floor had been emptied, its contents removed some time before and the lid never replaced; in fact, the only proof that a body lad laid there was old bloodstains from decomposition or maiming of the body. What remained was proof of a long-before committed crime, with no victim and likely no criminal left behind._

_On the wall, many pages from old journals and newspaper clippings had been placed along the walls. Though old and yellowed, they still bore all then words upon them. Many were written by hand, leaving the ink to smudge over time; but a handful had been typed long before, and still were perfectly clear. Chief among them, from the size and its placement with full visibility, was a document that spoke of a ship having run aground, the crew having vanished without a trace…_

As morning approached at London Airport, many busy terminals were filled with people preparing to leave the country and visit far-off places; some were leaving for Stockholm, others Sydney, even to New Delhi or Hong-Kong. One terminal, however, held almost no people there; for it had been reserved for a private flight to Paris early that morning. As the pilot and co-pilot waited at the terminal, arms crossed and left feet tapping, they wondered if there had been some scheduling error; for they had expected their VIPs to be flying out 15 minutes prior.

Suddenly, the form of a rather tall, thin man in unusual clothes got their attention, and they turned to see him as he emerged from the crowd. The man was at least a head taller than either of them, dressed in a scarlet sport jacket with matching dress pants and black Italian loafers; his eyes were hidden behind reflective, red sunglasses, much like movie stars wore; and his long, stringy white hair overlapped his shoulders and his collar, extending half-way down his back.

Looking behind him, the two polits then noticed that this man was not alone. He was accompanied by 4 more people. The first, a brown-haired woman wearing a black satin dress and matching heels, was followed by 4 men in suits, sunglasses and earpieces. Based in the group, it was clear that she was with the first gentleman, and the other 3 were bodyguards for them.

As the red-clad man reached the terminal, he stopped short of the men by 2 feet and reached into his pocket, producing 5 tickets for the flight. "My apologies for the delay," he stated calmly and with both sincerity and politeness. "We had to deal with an urgent matter regarding an employee of ours, and we were slowed considerably as a result of that. I trust that we can still leave shortly."

"Has your luggage cleared security?" one of the two pilots asked, watching as the brown-haired girl stopped beside the tall man and leaned on his shoulder. "If it has, then we can get everything loaded on and proceed. If it has not been, then this will take longer." Hearing these words, the red-clad man uttered a small chuckle.

"I have clearance from the Government of the United Kingdom," he elaborated. "I am to be a guest at the French Embassy, whose government has requested me and with whom I am on very good terms. My baggage has already been cleared. If there are no further delays, I would like to board and make up for lost time."

"As you wish, Ambassador," the first pilot responded, both he and his partner bowing before turning and walking down the short hallway towards the tarmac. Immediately the five members of the group started after them, all but the red-clad man carrying a formal business-like look; the only odd man out simply held his usual grin upon his face.

It took upwards of 5 minutes to reach the plane from the airport, for it had been stationed farther away after the flight had been delayed. None of the members of the party, including the pilots, were particularly pleased about this revelation; especially the woman, who carried a rather large handbag, and the red-clad man, who carried a briefcase in each hand. By the time they reached the plane, some level of tension had grown.

Much to everyone's approval, the plane had been left open for everyone to board quickly upon the arrival of the guests. The plane in question, a 3-engine DC-10, had been chartered specifically for this flight to disguise it as a standard civilian flight; from what the pilots had been told, the ambassador was on private business which had been classified to the utmost level. The only thing he did know, was that they would likely be shot for knowing.

Upon boarding the plane, the two pilots immediately headed for the cockpit at the front of the jet, while the other five boarded into the first-class section. Though this jet was a civilian model, it had been designed internally to fit the specs of a private jet; as such, the front section had comfortable seats around tables, multiple storage outlets, and a small bar fridge at the corner, which had no doubt been stocked for the occasion.

Once the front door of the place to the cockpit had been closed, the red-clad man placed his two briefcases on chairs opposite where everybody would be sitting, and then made a point of reaching over to the door and pulling it upwards, shutting it and locking it so that everyone was where they should be. "Now that our luggage is loaded and we're aboard, we're ready to take off."

"Hold onto that thought for one second," the woman responded, placing her handbag beside the two briefcases and starting back towards the tail of the plane. When she was met with the curious eyes of the agents, her response was, "I had a lot to drink last night, and then was given only a handful of hours to get packed, get some sleep and get dressed. In that rush I haven't had time to-"

"Spare us any further details, my dear," the red-clad man interrupted and told the woman, who simply turned and headed back past the start of the following second class. Turning back to the three agents, who had sat down at a table near the door, the man then looked at them with a sneer and his sunglasses faded away, revealing the red eyes of Alucard underneath.

Grabbing the two briefcases again, he stepped over to the table and sat opposite them, placing both cases on the table side-by-side. "Since you were kind enough to show me your weapons, it's only fair I do the same." He then turned to the left briefcase and clicked the locks, opening it and producing a rather large, long-barrelled silver handgun with a brown grip, as well as a matching magazine.

"This, my friends, is my first Service Weapon since serving under Integra. The Hellsing ARMS .454 Casull Auto. The 39cm barrel fires explosive-tipped .454 Casull rounds, whose cases are made from the silver of the melted-down cross of Lancaster Cathedral. It weighs 6kg loaded with a 12-shot magazine. A rather fun weapon, but a mere toy compared to the weapons I use now." Sneering, he clicked the magazine into the gun and pulled the slide, locking and arming the weapon and placing it on the seat next to him.

"That's a pretty impressive firearm you've got there," the Irish-voiced agent of the group, Brosnan, responded as Alucard reclosed the suitcase and placed it on the floor. As he did so, the agents saw that it contained 5 extra magazines; however, that did not interest them. "Now, if I may ask, what's so special about that other weapon? The black one I saw? The… Jackal, was it?"

"That, my friend, was a recreation of my previous side-arm; the Hellsing Combat Pistol, codenamed The Jackal. That 39cm barrel weapon held a magazine of 12 13mm rounds, mercury cores laced with blessed Macedonian silver. Sadly, that weapon was destroyed in my battle against Incognito; and though a new one was made to replace it, since Walter did not make it, the weapon was a shadow of its predecessor. Until now."

Taking the briefcase before him, Alucard clicked the latches and opened the lid, spinning the weapon around to reveal to the agents a shocking sight. The gun within the case was almost the length of the container itself; three magazines of massive-calibre bullets cat opposite it, highlighting its massive size. Like the aforementioned weapon, this one was a shiny obsidian black, with the phrase "Jesus Christ is in Heaven Now" on the side; however, this weapon had a polygonal shape, and as Alucard held it the size and shape became all the more evident.

"Gentlemen, I give you the Jackal MK-II. Designed primarily after the original Jackal, and with borrowed aspects of the IMI Desert Eagle, this weapon has a 60cm barrel and fires .700 Nitro Express bullets propelled by NNA-12X. These are especially dangerous; for though they are like the previous Jackal's rounds, they are sharpened, armour-piercing mercury-core bullets with a Nitrocellulose chaser. When these bullets decelerate, the shock causes them to explode, destroying their surroundings utterly. The 12-round magazine means this gun can wipe out a small battalion on a single set of rounds."

"Jesus Fucking Christ," the Scottish Agent, Connery swore as Alucard picked up and locked in a magazine, again locking the slide around it before placing it on the table. Immediately after that he took the extra 2 magazines and opened up his coat, revealing over 2-dozen other magazines and 2 empty holders, which he immediately placed these in before reclosing his suit. While Alucard placed the empty case on the floor, Connery added, "I need to get a gunsmith like this Walter fellow of yours. Here I am dicking around with a wee gun like mine, and you've got a bloody hand-held artillery piece."

"Actually, this weapon is only Walter's designs. Your friend Sophie is responsible for its construction and fine-tuning." Handing the weapon to Brosnan, he watched the youngest of the three agents look at the massive gun, easily the size of a sawed-off shotgun or larger, and examine its construction for a few second before simply handing back the weapon.

Hearing the sound of footsteps, Alucard and the agents turned to see the woman, her hair having shortened and returned to its original blonde colour. Immediately Alucard stated, "It's a good thing we didn't stow you in a coffin like we did for our trip to America, isn't it Police Girl? That would likely have ended embarrassingly for you." Shooting Alucard a death glare for his suggestion, she nonetheless walked straight to her seat beside him, where she stopped to see the silver Casull sitting in her place.

"You went to America with her in a coffin?" The only English agent, Moore, questioned. "I know vampires sleep during the day, but that's a bit much isn't it? I mean, what was so important about America that you had to be sent that way?"

"Walter, Seras and I were sent to Forks, Washington about 1 month ago to deal with an outbreak of FREAKs at the behest of the Governor. We were about 10 hours flying there and another 10 flying back; and even with half of the town's 2000 residents as Minute Vampires, it took us at best 2 hours to exterminate them. God, those cheap imitations of vampires irritate me."

"Master…" Seras suddenly stated, getting Alucard's attention as she held up the weapon. "Why exactly did you leave the Casull in my seat? I mean sure, the weapons need to go somewhere; I just don't understand why you need to put them where I'm sitting."

"You've done well lately, Seras Victoria," Alucard responded, seemingly in an unrelated way. "Your advancement from my apprentice to a senior field agent and my partner was exceptionally fast and well-done; and since I never officially gave you anything for you success, I decided it was time to make you truly my equal."

"Oh Master…" the woman responded, placing the gun down on the table and sitting next to Alucard. Once sitting, she threw her arms around the large, suave vampire and gave him a large hug, tears of happiness forming at the corners of her eyes as she expressed her gratitude. Not simply for the gift; but for the symbolism behind it, that her former Master truly considered her to be his equal.

With that, the sound of the engines roaring to life came up, and the plane ever-so-slightly started forwards, taxiing towards the end of the runway. "You mentioned… that these vampires were artificial," Brosnan recalled, resuming the conversation and regaining the attention of the two Hellsing Agents. You even called them 'Freaks'. What exactly is so – well , freaky – about them?"

"Freak isn't a term I use lightly; it's short for Fabricated Regenerative, Empathic and Artificial Kromwellian, and is named after the first recorded synthetic vampire, Johan Kromwell. These are vampires that have been created via artificial means, other than receiving true vampire blood. Last year's events involved vampires created via implanted chips, and the incident with Yon Kai involved experimental serums. Those in Forks were the result of Genetic crossings; the DNA of a vampire bat and a human bred a single half-breed FREAK, and it in turn created more of its kind."

"What can we expect… from this particular FREAK?" Brosnan asked, before Moore turned to him with a stern look that read to the man a message. The message that he was mistaken. "Wait… last night, you said this vampire was an undead. What's the difference between the two? Should techniques for defeating the undead not destroy FREAKs?"

"Yes and no," Seras interjected. "Though most things that will kill an undead will silence a FREAK, a select few are unaffected by Holy Artefacts; however, since they lack the full regenerative powers of an undead, explosive rounds will still do them in. Be warned though; a technique which will do in a FREAK may not stop an undead."

"Good thing to know," Connery concluded, he and his men each producing their own silver handguns from this suit pockets and loading in a single magazine each. "But… I'm pretty sure our particular bullets will be more than enough for any FREAKs we encounter."

The French Embassy was completely filled with people at their various stations. Some were filling out paperwork and being handed case folders; others were in conferences, or speaking with foreign governments on co-operative actions. Most of them looked official, and none of them looked half-hearted; the seriousness of the job had beaten that out of them long ago.

Once particular man, dressed in a navy dress suit and standing at the doorway with a case folder in one hand and a cigarette in the other, waiting for a particular arrival. Having been put in charge of such a crucial case would make or break not only his career, but this whole agency; if the French Government could not deal with a domestic issue, even with outsourced help, then the President would have no further use for him.

His wishes for somebody to arrive were very quickly answered by the opening of the doors, as Alucard, Seras and the three MI-6 agents stepped through the door. Alucard had again changed his appearance; he now wore a red detective's trench-coat, closed over his clothes, and a red fedora that cast shadows over his face while only his amber eyes shone through. Seras had maintained her normal appearance, and the three agents had all adorned sunglasses.

"Monsieur directeur, c'est un plaisir," Alucard interjected, his tendrils of white hair flicking about as he shook the hand of the man standing before him. "Je m'appelle Inspecteur Holmwood, avec le Bureau Fédéral d'Angleterre. Voici ma partenaire Inspecteur Harker," he indicated, pointing to Seras then, indicating the others he added, "et ils sont les agents de MI-6."

«Ah, oui monsieur," the man responded, looking at the group with a twinge of confusion. «Je m'appelle Directeur Sébastian LaSalle. Je travaillerai avec vous pour cet investigation. Qu'est-ce que vous savez déjà ? »

« Monsieur, si je peux, » Alucard responded, pointing to the man behind him. "Mes amis avec MI-6, leur français… n'est pas aussi excellent que nos… Peut-être nous pourrons continuer en anglais."

"Oui, certainement," the director commented, before turning to a woman standing at her own desk and yelling, "Simone, allez-y, cet instant!" Without so much as a chance to catch her breath the stunned woman, dressed in a black pantsuit, with blond hair and glasses, stood up from her work and moved over to her boss' side, standing at attention. When he resumed, she translated all of his words.

"The events which have required you to intervene in this case are most terrifying," she reiterated, making Alucard guess either the Director knew little English or he was worried his accent would mar translation. "In the past week alone, the deaths of 20 civilians have occurred, and close to 200 over the previous three months. The deaths are all the same; victims completely drained of blood, posed inside satanic sigils and left on display."

"We will need to arrange to see the crime scene of at least one of the victims, as well as the case folders, within the next two days," Alucard informed the Director, the woman Simone this time translating his words into English. "Unless we have seen the details first-hand, we will not be able to create a true profile of the killer."

"I was not aware that Hellsing mercenaries did profiling," the Director responded incredulously through his translator. "If I had known that was all you'd do, I'd have called in the FBI. Why exactly do trained killers and British nationals need to know these things?"

"Is it not obvious?" Seras spoke next, her own tone of voice having grown impatient at such an ignorant remark from the Director. "We need to verify the motivation of the individual, as well as the species. The criminal could be an Undead Vampire, a Synthetic Vampire or 'FREAK', a human, a demon, or something else entirely."

"My partner Detective Harker speaks true," Alucard added. "About three months ago we were sent to dispatch what we thought were the works of a Vampire terrorist organization. Instead we discovered them to be a Taliban cell, using vampires as weapons against England. The type of creature we're dealing with is vital to know; for it determines our course of action, and more importantly its. If we assume the enemy is human and they are Nosferatu, then we mistake their actions and more people die. Do you understand?"

After taking a second to consider what he had just been told, Director LaSalle simply stared blankly back at the two agents and their back-up, hardly believing what he had been told. After that, his face returned to an expressional pose and he shrugged it off. "Yes, of course; how silly of me," the translator said for him. However, before he could say any more, a sound came over the radio upstairs and it got turned up, allowing everyone on the floor below to hear over the open floor.

Though the broadcast was in French, Alucard and Seras heard the words and knew their meaning. Once they heard them in their entirety, the Director turned back around and yelled something to the agents upstairs, who by extension reached into their desks and produced service weapons. Alucard then stated, "It's been a pleasure, Director; but I don't need to tell you that we have somewhere to be."

Once he received a nod from the man, he and Seras turned and started back out the doors, followed by the now-confused agents. Once outside Alucard's trench coat opened and revealed his usual charcoal suit, cravat and boots; and his hair turned back to normal, along with his glasses. "Forgive me Alucard, but my French is a bit rusty," Connery implored. "Exactly why did we just leave."

"Louis-XIV Maximum Security Penitentiary on the outskirts of rural Paris," Alucard told him, pulling out his two black weapons and loading magazines into them. "The place is overrun with ghouls and vampires; perhaps the entire inmate population is afflicted." These words left a look of true shock on the faces of the agents; but Alucard simply smiled sadistically, along with Seras. "Prepare for a trial by fire, boys…"

The five Hellsing and MI-6 agents managed to arrive at the gates of the prison in less than an hour, though they knew there was not much time to waste. The building they had arrived at was a fortress, modeled after Versailles and armoured as such; but even it would only hold an outbreak for so long, and humans would be powerless to stop a legion that size. They had to act fast for if mere humans arrived and rushed in before the hordes were gone, the infection would spread.

Reaching the iron-clad door, Alucard looked up the building and its 30-foot stone walls. Drawing his weapons, he jumped and his feet caught traction on the stone. Quickly he ran up to the top of the walls, and stopped at the top while he waited for the others. Under the bright day's sun they could not rely on the stealth of the night; so he knew that the best plan of attack was a blitz, using speed and sheer power to remove the enemy before their cover was blown.

Looking down, the man watched intently as his apprentice vampires stepped up to the wall. She held on her shoulders her Harkonnen cannon – an artillery pieces posing as a rifle – as well as a second cannon, the Harkonnen II, a belt-fed, semi-automatic 30mm cannon in direct contrast to her previous single-shot, slide-loaded cannon. Her usual arms of holy silver, plus her master's gist, joined these guns over her blue Hellsing uniform and she jumped upwards, taking three jumps after that to reach the same height as Alucard did. "Good time, Seras," he complemented, cocking his two guns as the guns on his back shook.

"Thank you," she responded before looking back down, though I doubt MI-6 agents, even true undead, have as much practice at this as we do." Watching the men below, she saw the three black suit-clad men pull out two large-calibre pistols each, in addition to the machine guns slung over their shoulders. Though not as fast as the first two, they made an impressive time in jumping onto the wall and running upwards to join the two undead, who now looked down at the inside.

It was an utter scene of chaos. Ghouls stormed around the courtyards, clawing at the stone walls and moaning loudly. There seemed to be hundreds of them here; but given the prison's population of 5000, that didn't seem surprising. Up in the high tower of the prison, the five agents could make out the guards and warden, having barricaded the door against their attackers. Clearly the attack had been by surprise, and was not their action. They had to be saved.

"In the name of the Lord, impure souls of the living dead shall be banished into eternal damnation. Amen," Seras stated, pointing her Harkonnen 2 down at the base of the wall and firing several rounds of the oversized, silver-jacketed ammunition. At the bottom the ghouls exploded in clouds of blood, eventually forming a mist of blood and sand. Turning to the MI-6 agents she added, "We'll go through the prison and deal with this. You three keep the ghouls from escaping and the French from getting in."

Standing at attention and saluting, the MI-6 agents showed their readiness to follow the order. Making time, the 5 jumped down from their wall into the courtyard of the prison, firing their weapons and making pinpoint kills all the way down. As soon as his feet hit the ground, Alucard shot off a round from his Jackal MK-II, which passed through the head of a ghoul and left a hole where its face had been. This repeated through 4 more ghouls, until the last of the five where the round exploded and flung bloody sand everywhere.

"Let's get moving Seras," Alucard told his Draculina, starting off at a furious pace towards the inner doors of the prison. As he ran he held his two Jackals to either side of him, firing as he went and exploding ghouls into mist on his left and right. As she ran, Seras loaded a shell into her Harkonnen and shot it at the door, exploding it and allowing her and Alucard to run inside without stopping.

Once inside, the true carnage made itself known. All 4 floors of the building were swarming with ghouls, as well as a handful of vampires stopping to prey on whatever was left of the human inmates. Almost no signs of life remained; the masses of ghouls had been released as humans from their cells, corrupted and then allowed to continue. "Are these the manners you show to international guests?" Alucard questioned musingly, yelling up to the higher floors and getting a stir. "Really, I expected you'd at least open the door for us."

Looking at the man angrily, the masses of ghouls on the upper floors growled down at him, mimicking the anger of their master vampires. Sneering at this, Alucard simply jumped up into the air, landing on the open end of the 4th floor and glaring at the creatures amusedly. "Tell me, you maggot instant vampires," he issued. "Who created you? Who dares to foul our race by producing cheap copies of perfect beings?"

Instead of answering, the vampires lunged at Alucard, snarling as they landed in front of him. About 12 of them stood there, eying the red-clad man hungrily as they longed to consume his blood. Their ambitions lasted no more than ten seconds, for Alucard then swung his right arm in an arc in front of himself while he fired his Jackal MK-II. As the bullet moved through the air, it struck the nearby wall and changed direction, going straight through the heads of all 5 vampires until it exploded into the 5th's head.

"How utterly pathetic," he sneered, putting his arms back down while he gazed at the creatures before him through glowing red eyes and placed his guns in his side pockets. "The French are supposed to be the best lovers on the planet; and yet you all won't give me the love for a decent fight. No matter; I'll just have to exterminate you all like the filth you are, were, and always will be."

"You thing you're a fucking big shot, huh?" One of the other figures down the hall piped up with, stepping forward from the shadows. In either hand he held a machine gun with a 100-round ammunition drum, both of which he promptly opened fire on Alucard with. Hundreds of rounds shot from the gun in such a small span of time, exploding through Alucard's tissue and sending blood splattering against the walls; but with every hit, Alucard's body dissolved more and more into a black mass.

"You're nothing but a one-trick fucking wannabe," the armed vampire issued at Alucard, continuing his assault until the massive ammunition drums fell from the funs and left Alucard free-standing. Pieces of his limbs had fallen to the floor, his face shredded and his torso blasted almost cleanly through. As a result, the vampire simply stood there, a mass of bloody pulp standing in a pool of itself.

Then, much to the surprise of the vampire's surprise, Alucard's bloody form began to giggle and chuckle darkly, while the glowing red of the slit-pupil eyes were illuminated through the mess of his bloodied hair; and to the shock of the vampire, his blood simply turned black and leeched into the shadows, while Alucard's body simply began to slowly heal itself and turn even darker. "What… what the hell are you?" the vampire asked in terror, dropping his rounds as the laughing stopped and the glowing eyes fell squarely upon him.

Holding up his hands, Alucard moved his thumbs and index fingers into a rectangle around his right eye, closing the left as the sigils on his gloves lit up and his body, save for his coat, started to fade into shadows. "Releasing Control Art Restriction System to Level 2. Situation A. Approval of the Cromwell Initiative is Acknowledged. Maintaining Control Release and unlocking powers for limit use until the targets have been rendered silent."

"What the fuck are you…?" The vampire started to ask again, before seeing that Alucard's body had completely changed into a mass of shadows, upon which masses of red, glowing eyes were now opening one by one. As his coat flapped, the eyes and shadows spread onto the surrounding walls from the shadows of his body, forming eyes along the entire corridor; and as they appeared, the shadows transformed into a writhing, moving mass of black, clicking centipedes, filled with glowing red eyes and edged with a frame of blue flames.

Then, in a terrifying instant, the vampire heard the sounds of breaking bones, splattering blood and pained moans from behind him, and he turned to see what had happened. To his horror, the mass of writhing bugs and eyes had been cast all the way down the darkened hallway; and from it, several arms identical to Alucard's had emerged from the masses, impaling dozens of ghouls and a pair of vampires with their open hands. Turning back to face Alucard, the vampire asked, "you… what the fuck are you…?"

From within the mass of eyes and centipedes that had once been Alucard, the laugh began to emanate again; but this time, it was as the coat and arms of Alucard fell to the floor limply, joined by Alucard's severed head with its Cheshire cat grin on its face as they both began to sink into the mass below them. The deep voice of Alucard continued to laugh at the vampire as the mass of its old body twisted and writhed; and from the mass, six creatures which resembled gigantic, many-eyed wolves made of shadow stepped out, all growling and salivating.

"No… no, please! Spare me! PLEASE!" But the screams were to no avail; one of the wolves immediately jumped upon the vampire, closing his upper body in its jaws and biting down. The foul, thick blood of the creature splattered onto the shadowed walls, where it was absorbed into the shadows just as Alucard's remains had been. Once finished with him, the wolf and its five counterparts stared down the hall as well, opening their mouths to reveal a pair of glowing red eyes within each. They eventually ran out of sight into almost total blackness, leaving the sound of carnage in their wake.

The mass of black, flame-like shadow eventually came back together, solidifying into a more human-looking state. Alucard's face, now below a large and untamed mass of black hair, was all the remained of his old look; his clothes had changed to a dark grey, latex-looking suit that covered him from his neck to his shoes, save for his gloves whose sigils now glowed crimson. The insane look on his face was joined by a massive, red eye that appeared on his chest; and then the buttons of the straps on his torso and shoulders opened into smaller eyes as well, giving him the appearance of a true abomination.

"And still more and more of this weak, pathetic trash that dares to call itself _Nosferatu_ comes before me, disgracing my species and wasting my time," Alucard's voice said, in a voice that mixed anger with elation and matched his face of insanity. As he started forwards at a slow, walking pace, the masses of living shadow moved with him; and as he did, he could taste, smell, and feel the bloodshed that was unfolding around him. "The only solace I can take, I suppose, is that I will never run out of food…"

With that, Alucard's body slowly reverted to its shadowy state, piece by piece, and the shadows transformed into a horde of bats that flew through the hallways. In the absence of his body the masses of living shadow returned to their inert state; and within the cells along the walls that the shadows had covered, the gnawed, bloodied skeletons of those ghouls and vampires still in their cages came into view, having been stripped of their flesh…

On the bottom floor, Seras had repositioned her original Harkonnen onto her ammunition backpack, in favour of holding onto her Harkonnen II with both hands for added accuracy. As with its predecessor, this weapon's shells tore through the enemy with almost no effort, splattering the walls in a mess of bloody sand while the bodies simply dissolved away. With each cluster of creatures she destroyed, she could move to a new section of hallway to cleanse it; and so, as she and her master had intended, the mission was moving quite quickly.

However, Seras discovered that there was a drawback to her new weapon. Aside from the much greater weight and kickback than her original weapon, forcing her to use more energy in keeping the weapon straight, its rapid-fire performance meant she used more ammunition than required. In killing 500 ghouls, she'd use 50 of the 100 rounds in her first ammunition belt; impressive as that was, it meant that with both belts she could only kill 2000 of the 5000 creatures this way. Seeing this, she flipped the setting on the weapon from semi-automatic to single-action, in the hopes of conserving shells.

Turning the next corner, she found another cluster of ghouls about 15 metres away chewing on the corpse of an inmate, having already stripped away much of its flesh. Firing a pair of shots from the cannon, she exploded the body into a huge fireball, sending the ghouls flying back into the walls where they burst into flames and dissolved. Out from behind the flames a vampire jumped into view, its red eyes fixed on her; but as it approached she smiled confidently.

Leaping into the air, the creature made a dive for her neck, trying to drink the blood of the Draculina. _"Smart little bastard,"_ Seras had time to think of the creature. _"It must know the power it can gain from drinking the blood of a true undead. Still…"_ Before the creature could land, Seras shoved the barrel of the Harkonnen II into its mouth before launching one of the massive shells into its open jaws. The creature's head exploded everywhere, raining bloody meat everywhere and letting the body land on the ground before dissolving.

From ahead of her, Seras' attention turned to the sound of a gun firing, and she knew she needed to act. She immediately used her sharp reflexes and shifted to her right, letting a cluster of bullets go straight past her. Using these same skills, she shot forwards at least 30 metres straight in front of a trio of armed vampires, clubbing them all in the mead with her massive cannon. "I'm starting to see why Alucard hates you so much…" she mused jumping backwards and safely firing a shot to blast them into oblivion.

"…because you're all nothing but instant maggots."

Standing outside on the grounds of the prison, the three MI-6 agents knew they had their work cut out for them, now more than ever. Alucard's assaults had forced several ghouls and vampires to take their chances and dive out through the windows of the upper floors; and as more from the lower floors pilled outside as well, the three Undead Agents were the only ones standing against an entire horde of over 500 creatures attempting to escape.

"I don't know how long those two expect this to take," Connery muttered as his magazines fell from his guns, landing on the ground. Reaching for his pockets he took one with each hand's loose fingers and threw them into the air; then, as they fell, he shoved the guns against them and clicked them into place, before unloading all 12 bullets from each magazine into the heads of 24 ghouls in quick succession. "But they'd better hurry if they expect us to hold this for much longer."

"Still a grouchy old bear I see, boss," Brosnan responded dryly and with a hint of amusement while he tossed his guns up in the air, producing two magazines on the palms of his hands and letting the guns simply fall onto them. As he spoke, he tossed up each gun and grabbed it with the opposite hand, shooting 12 ghouls on either side of him, just as quickly as his leader, with his arms still crossed. "Relax; those two are Hellsing's finest. They'll kill the lot of them, no sweat."

"Maybe," Moore said somewhat pessimistically as he telekinetically shot a new magazine into both of his guns, taking aim straight down the middle and taking out 5 vampires and 19 ghouls. "But from what I've heard of Alucard, he has no sense of occasion; he'll spend too much time playing with his food before killing it, and that'll be that."

"Good God, you're more cynical than Orelock is," Brosnan chided, also using his telekinesis to reload and go for 24 vampires in a couple seconds. "Even so, Miss Victoria is as straight-laced as they come; I don't see her wasting any time on…"

Brosnan's rant was cut short by the sounds of many loud, pained and terrified screams ringing out from the upper floors of the prison, followed by the sounds of flesh tearing and bones snapping. The noises were so profound that several ghouls and even the two remaining vampires outside stopped and listened; and even the MI-6 agents knew the dreadful noises meant only one thing. _"Nice going, Alucard,"_ Connery proceeded to thing. _"Just don't go out-of-control on us…"_

Along the upper floors of the prison, masses of Alucard's body moved in all directions, cleansing everything that they came across. The wolves had made their way to the third floor, killing and devouring everything they came across while the animated shadows of centipedes absorbed the blood. On the fourth floor, the huge cluster of bats flew with breakneck speed, re-condensing into an equally fast-running Alucard as they came by a ghoul or vampire, and letting the creature use his guns to slaughter and his living shadow to absorb them before breaking back apart into the bat swarm and moving on.

"_This is so much more fun than the previous assignments…"_ Alucard mused, actually enjoying this far more than he thought he would. _"So much bloodshed, violence and flesh-ripping action, and the rush of it all… I haven't had a mission so thrilling in months! If this is simply what my new foe can offer me as a warm-up, I look forward to truly doing battle with them…"_

As he rounded the corner of the hallway, he saw the deck ended and the third floor below him came into view. Having swept the entire fourth floor and swallowed everything in his path, the bats simply descended to the next floor down, settling as they flapped in mid-air and finally solidifying back into his Level 2 form. Eying the end of the hallway hungrily, he walked forwards while he watched one of his wolf-demons devouring the body of a ghoul, snapping the bones to devour every shred of flesh.

When the wolf heard its master's approach, the creature released what was left of the ghoul, turning and walking back towards Alucard. The vampire stopped and knelt down to pet his Familiar, which in turn dissolved back into the flame-like aura of writhing shadow and melted back into his body. "Such a feast I have not been treated to in Centuries," he thought aloud, the many eyes on his outfit looking through the shadows for any further targets.

Instead, he saw and heard the approaching energy signature of Seras, running down the halls of the second floor in her frantic rush to destroy all the creatures. Chuckling under his breath, Alucard reached into his body and pulled out the machine gun he had taken from Yon Kai the day before and started down the next hallway, stopping when the next level down came into view from the surveillance balcony.

"_Seras,"_ Alucard issued to his partner through their telepathic link. _"I have a way for you to take out the last of the floor; but you need to hurry. Take the gun gave you and shoot."_ As the message got to her, Alucard tossed the machine gun up in the air gingerly, where it started to fall down to the next level. A shot rang out and one of the Casull's explosive rounds struck the magazine of the machine gun, detonating it and sending a flurry of silver bullets in all directions.

Phasing down through the floor, Alucard found himself standing in a pool of blood, crimson sand, strewn body parts, and shell casings both from his weapon and Seras'. The Draculina stood only a few feet away from him, having put her cannons against a wall and the Casull back at her waste. "Good job, Police Gi…" Before he could finish his words, however, Alucard doubled over as he vomited a huge mass of thick, bloody ooze at his feet, covering the edges of his mouth in red.

"Master, are you alright?" Seras asked nervously as her former master stood up again looking at her while he licked the blood from his lips. Looking at Seras confidently, Alucard simply absorbed the blood back into the shadowy masses of his body, then took a couple steps closer.

"Of course, my dear," he responded, showing no concern for what had just happened. "I simply overindulged and got myself too excited; nothing more to it than that." As his words finished, though, Alucard felt a sharp, piercing pain go through his chest; and as he looked down, he saw that a silver bayonet stuck through his upper torso, right in the centre of the eye on his chest. Grinning darkly, Alucard turned to the shadows behind him and said in utter amusement,

"I was wondering how long I'd be waiting to see you, Judas Priest…" With that, the seven-foot form of the dark-skinned, blond-haired, scarred and long coat-clad form of Alexander Anderson stepped out from the shadows, holding two more of his bayonets into a cross shape in front of his face while his glasses reflected some light and shone pure white. "Forgive my casual attire; had I known I'd run into you here, I would have worn something a bit more fitting."

"Your dress makes little difference to be, you filthy black magic heathen bastard," the Scottish voice of the priest issued as he set his arms to his side, revealing the same sadistic grin as Alucard on his face; and tilted his head, revealing his green eyes as he did. "And once I'm done with you, I doubt Satan will much care how you dress in Hell, either."

Hearing these words, Alucard's eyes opened as wide as they would go while his hair flapped around, giving his insane grin a whole new dimension of craziness. "Bring it…"

Sitting in the dark, secluded corner of his office, Orelock remained motionless, almost inert, with his hands interlocked and his head resting between the two. Raising his head from between them, he moved his right hand towards the computer on his desk and pressed a series of keys, causing a window to open up. At first it displayed nothing but snow, distorted and meaningless; but the image quickly clarified, and a shadow-covered human face appeared on the other end, set amidst a black background.

"The Hellsing vampires have been deployed to Paris, just as you expected," the Director informed the man on the other end of the screen, getting no reply but knowing full-well the man was pleased by this news. "They left via private aircraft this morning and have most likely been in Paris for at least an hour now."

"Then our little game of chess is finally starting to move at a proper pace again," the man on the other end of the screen issued, moving his hand forwards. Grabbing an object, he then held it up to the screen, where it was revealed as a Bishop chess piece; and then he placed it back down before him, in a different spot then where he'd had it. "Bishop to E6. Check."

Looking down at his own desk, Orelock grabbed the matching black Bishop and moved it to the named position, lining it up with his own white King. Staring long and hard at the pieces for a second, he considered what had just been done, before picking up his own piece and moving. "Knight to E6." Both men then grabbed the enemy Knights for their boards, removing the Bishop from the square and placing the knight there instead.

"I'll not be played for a fool you know," Orelock assured the other man, who folded his hands in front of him while he listened. "To you, I'd bet I'm nothing more than a single sprocket in the machinery that is your plan. This goal you've set is bigger than me, or my power; but whether you know it or not, it's bigger than you as well."

"Duly noted," the other man responded, seemingly completely uninterested in what he had just been told. "Except that you know full well that the strings on this burlesque rest solely in _my_ hands. Not Integra Hellsing's, not yours, not your Prime Minister's, and not the French Prime Minister's. They rest solely in mine."

"Exactly how long do you think you can keep the Hellsing Organization in the dark for? Integra Hellsing is not a woman to whom a bill of goods can be sold. Eventually, they will learn of your existence and your little 'burlesque,' as you call it, will come to an abrupt and premature end. Me, I have no reason to hide you; _you're_ just a foreign national, and _I_ am the head of a top British Agency. Whose side do you think my people will take?"

"If Miss Hellsing learns of me in time, then so be it," the man responded, completely uncaring of Orelock's words yet again. "For now, she is oblivious to me; and if you have any ridiculous ideas of revealing me to her, James Lester, than I highly recommend refraining from that altogether."

"You listen to me, you ruddy American git," Lester threatened, banging his fist against his desk hard enough to slice his hand open on the edge. While blood poured down his hand, he glared back at the indifferent man on the other end of the line and added, "If you wish to make threats against a member of home office, I'll come down on your bloody head to hard you'll need a helmet to keep your brain off the walls."

"No, you listen to me," the man on the other end responded, his voice rising but his tone otherwise remaining normal. "I am the leader of the Department of Defence, an agency from the most powerful country on this planet. If you wish to make idle threats against me, then allow me to show you what the United States Military is capable of. Or perhaps, if your intelligence is as good as you claim, you've already seen my handiwork."

"You mean your little stunt in Pyong-Yang," Orelock interpreted. "How could I not hear about that? A Federal North Korean research centre destroyed, twelve scientists blown to pieces. What hollow and two-faced pricks you Americans are; using a former enemy nation's resources to further your own agenda; and then destroying the evidence after one failure."

"If I wish to surpass Hellsing's trump card," the man stated philosophically, "then there is no room for failure. So far, my specimens can't even surpass a Fledgling vampire of less than two years, even if she is Alucard's Draculina. No; I need a weapon that can surpass even Alucard himself; and I will not stop until I attain that goal."

"Vance, you're a ruddy fool," Orelock challenged incredulously. "Surpass Alucard? For Christ's sakes, even a true undead like Incognito, imbued with the power of an Ancient God, could not surpass Alucard. The creature is not just some vampire, you know; he is _the_ vampire. And why are you so obsessed with besting a creature which poses no threat to you?"

"National pride," Vance rationalized. "The founding fathers wanted for the United States of America to become the most powerful nation on this planet, a forerunner and the standard for the people of this world over the rest of existence. The Old World Empires like Great Britain have had their day; I cannot stand idly by and allow an outdated joke like England have a weapon greater than us."

"That makes no bloody sense at all. You're willing to jeopardize world political relations and risk starting a war just to win a pissing contest nobody challenged you to? Must I play your conscience forever, Vance? So far I've kept quiet about your insane project because it caused no harm. Please, I beseech you as a partner in arms and a friend, don't force me to bring this matter to the UN's attention."

"Do you truly feel this strongly about a matter which has yet to concern you?" Vance questioned strongly, getting an even sterner glare as a reply. Eventually, the American diplomat sighed and said, "Very well, I'll split the difference with you; I will continue research into and testing of the project within the United States only, and I'll allow Canadian personnel to oversee all activity. Does that sound fair?"

Thinking long and hard about the idea, Orelock looked off into space thoughtfully before looking back and replying, "Very well. I see no reason why you cannot continue the project on your own soil, nor have I the authority to stop you. But know this; if one of your little thugs so much as steps onto foreign soil with this project, I'll bring the United Nations down on you in that instant."

"Understood," Vance responded, looking much more relieved to no longer being in such tension with a British official. "If it makes you feel any better, I have no intention of starting a war with the Commonwealth or the European Union; we've had enough of fighting with our allies. No; we must save our energy for the common enemy."

"I can agree with that," Orelock stated, reaching for his phone. "I'll call up a friend of mine at CSIS and pass on the message." Signing off, Orelock turned off the webcam and ended the communication with the American office, before punching a number into the phone. After less than five seconds of ringing, a voice picked up on the other end.

"Yes, it's Director James Lester at MI-6 in London. I need to speak to Director Helen Cutter regarding a matter of foreign security." After putting in the request, he waited for a few more seconds before a woman picked up on the other end of the line. "Yes, Helen, it's me… Well, I'm not doping to badly, how about you…Good."

After hearing the woman asked the all-important question, Orelock said to her, "Well, I've lust spoken to Director Gideon Vance of the United States Department of Defence . He's currently undertaking a project in Quantico, Virginia, and he has agreed at my insistence to having foreign supervision. Because Canada is closely allied to both England and the United States, I need you to assign two of your top agents to security detail… Um, effective immediately… Yes, that will be excellent, thank you… Yes, it's good talking to you as well… Yes, good day."

Putting down the phone, Orelock rested his head back in his hands and thought to himself, _"Now Vance, we'll see if your insanity can be cured, or at least kept in check…"_


	3. Order III

**Order III – Thou Shalt Not Bear False Witness**

Sitting in her office in the basement of MI-6's V-Branch, Integra laid back in her desk chair while she listened to a voice on the other end of her phone, her cord twisted around her fingers. This was a call she listened to intently, for she had been awaiting it for some time; it was a status report from Walter on his mission in Northern Africa.

"_We believe we've located the source of the FREAK Chips,"_ the former Retainer explained to her, speaking calmly and slowly so she could absorb every word. _"The Egyptian Government was slow to comply with our requests, unsurprising after the Suez Crisis and countless other political skirmishes; but eventually the finance3 minster turned over all records of Government grants for the last two years."_

"Anything that stood out enough to warrant further investigation?" Integra questioned, curling and twirling the phone's cord further while she thought about the notion. It seemed unlikely his answer would be useful; after all, any agency conducting something as illicit as creating artificial vampires would surely disguise their efforts as something else.

She was surprised utterly when Walter's answer returned. _"Actually, there was a large government grant for a section of the Valley of the Kings in Cairo about two-and-a-half years ago; however, the agency which took out the grant never filed a status report to secure additional funding. This became especially noteworthy two weeks after the expedition began, when two bodies were discovered in the area where the expedition was supposed to be."_

"There were four scientists on this particular expedition, yes?" When Walter hummed his response, Integra looked at some of the papers she had been given earlier, her red irises focussing intently on certain lines. "Then why do these papers you sent me seem to indicate that there were six people sent out into the desert?"

"_According to the Finance Minister, the funds included payment for a pair of hired mercenaries for protection against Grave robbers and Taliban officials they may have come across. It says here that… oh, my…"_ Walter's sudden and unexpected response to what he had discovered was intriguing to Integra, which he immediately deduced and added, _"They were a pair of brothers from the United States, who had experiences as hitmen for organized crime. It says here that the funding was partly to replace lost revenue from their nightclub."_

"…You're kidding me," Integra responded, reaching into her desk for a file folder while Walter confirmed that he was indeed serious. Producing a file from her desk, she opened it to a pair of profile pictures from a year or so earlier, from an incident report regarding an attack on Hellsing Manor. "The Valentine Brothers owned a nightclub, and had been linked to organized crime. Could this be the missing link from one year ago?"

"_The Valentine Brothers were associated with Incognito, and they definitely didn't seem like they wanted to disclose anything. If they were on that expedition… do you think Incognito is what they found?"_

"Let's back up for a second, shall we?" Integra declared, reaching for the file folder she had been faxed earlier again. "You said that two of the four archaeologists were discovered dead… I need to know the circumstances of their deaths."

"_Let's see…"_ After a few seconds of reading, Walter came back with a half-whispered,_ "Oh dear. It seems they died of exsanguination and tissue damage, caused my multiple ragged wounds consistent with… with, 'being mauled by an unidentified creature'. During the investigation, interviewed local villagers told stories of a creature they call the 'Night Walker', a flesh-eating, blood-drinking monster that takes human lives to sustain its own. These stories date back to an ancient story from the time of Egyptian Pharaohs, but that's all I know right now."_

"Those stories must be about Incognito," Integra deduced, placing the file back into her desk along with the new one. "Clearly these men did indeed find him, and then exhume him; how, I don't know, but they did. He must have killed the first two scientists for nourishment, and then the Valentine Brothers became FREAKs at some point after that. But what happened in between…?"

"_That's impossible to say at this point. I've already disclosed to you everything of merit I was able to obtain. All else we know post-dates their conversion; Incognito fell under the servitude of a human master, and he in turn used that technology to create the FREAK sub-race."_

"The traitor from the Convention of Twelve never admitted why they committed the atrocities of London, only that Incognito was the most efficient tool for the job. His magic powers were unlike any vampire he'd ever seen; more powerful, yes with an archaic and crude element."

"_If all this is true, My Lady," _Walter added after a brief couple seconds' pause,_ "then Incognito is older than even Alucard. It almost seems a waste that such a valuable gem of vampirological knowledge had to be lost. I mean, he was the progenitor of his race; so much could have been learned from…"_

"Don't even tread down that path," Integra instructed strongly, knowing the thought tangent Walter had gone down all-too-well. "As valuable as Incognito may have been, he was far too powerful and violent to be controlled; which makes me wonder how any human could have possibly made a servant out of him."

"_Then I may suggest that Incognito's master may not have been the_ _one who was ultimately in control…"_ Hearing Walter say this, Integra reached for a box of cigars in her desk drawer and pulled out a single smoke. She then used her compact cigar cutter to slice a good burning end, and pulled out a Zippo Lighter with which to ignite the end.

After taking a quick puff of her cigar, Integra said back to Walter, "Yes… that's an interesting notion indeed…"

Under the feint trickle of light that poured through the mesh of the prison window, the reflection on Anderson's glasses, cross and bayonets gave them an ethereal look; which, by contrast, made the completely shadowed Alucard seemed demonic and fallen, creating the almost archetypal scene and atmosphere of Heaven and Hell themselves colliding. In the shadows of their etchings and the blood that stained them, the words _Deo Duce, Fero Comitante_ stood out from the blades, while Alucard's red eyes glowed back like Hell's fires from the shadows over his face.

"It seems some things never change," the vampire mused, reaching for the holy blade jutting through the eye on his chest and grabbing hold of it firmly. Smoke arose from his hand while he pulled the blade straight through his chest, dropping it onto the ground while the hole in his chest and the burn on his hand slowly reformed to normal. "Even after that warthog Maxwell's execution and the dissolution of his followers in Iscariot, you still pursue me? Does tangling with me truly mean that much to you?"

"Think of it what you will," Anderson retorted sharply, matching the vampire's sarcastic tone with his own humoured smile. "One year ago, I was assigned the task of bringing you to an end, and ridding this world of your reign of evil. Even though Section XIII knows a new leader now, that mission has not changed." Watching Alucard smile darkly at him, the Paladin shifted and added, "Besides, I am not Maxwell; I fight my own battles, not relying on others to carry out my plans."

"Glad to hear we won't be so rudely interrupted by likes such as those wretched Papal Knights this time," Alucard responded, his eyes shifting to Seras as he spoke. "Police Girl, head outside and join the other agents in dispatching the last of the Ghoul horde; this battle is mine and mine alone."

"Yes sir," the strawberry-blond responded, saluting before jumping towards the broken window in an attempt to leave. In response to this, Anderson threw one of his bayonets straight at her; but Alucard's right arm then burst into the form of a wolf's head with many red eyes on the end of a mass of shadow, and bit down on the bayonet to crush it. Anderson could only watch in chagrin as Seras broke through the window, free-falling to where the MI-6 Agents were.

"When I said this fight was yours and mine alone, I meant it," Alucard told the Scottish priest sternly, sneering at him. "I won't allow you to harm my Draculina, or lay even one finger on her. Understood?" With that notion the wolf's head turned and shot straight at Anderson, jaws open and slobber flying as it closed in on him.

"Very well!" Anderson yelled, sliding back out of the striking range before throwing his other bayonet straight at the wolf creature. Upon impact with the throat the blessed weapon cut straight through it, shooting all the way back and embedding in Alucard's right shoulder. Black shadows then poured from the wound, flowing and draping over his body, until they reformed into his red coat, hanging on his shoulders like a cloak with the sleeves flapping slackly.

"Now that we're clear on that…" Alucard added, a new arm growing from the stump with the blade in its grasp, "…we can truly get started." Closing his new hand completely, Alucard broke the blade in half; then, shooting straight at Anderson, he sped up until he was too fast for the Paladin to see. With a well-placed throw he embedded the broken blade of the bayonet into Anderson's shoulder; but the weapon simply dislodged and Anderson turned to face his assailant.

"You'll not best me that easily, heathen puppet on Protestant strings!" In a similarly-fast move, over a dozen bayonets flew from under Anderson's coat, shooting straight at Alucard and slicing him in several locations. However, the vampire made almost no notice of the wounds and rushed again, until Anderson stopped him about a foot away from impacting him. In a flash the fist of the vampire was caught in the hand of the Paladin, with his other hand bringing a bayonet down straight through Alucard's arm.

Reacting immediately to the attack, Alucard jumped back and left Anderson holding his severed arm, which quickly melted away into a cuddle of curdled, blackened blood at Anderson's feet. Giving the man a very quick and sly grin, he slid rapidly back into the shadows, too fast for Anderson to track his motion. Marvelling for a second at his target's power, Anderson chuckled slightly under his breath before drawing another bayonet and walking off into the darkness.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," the Priest taunted into the black abyss, turning his head so that the sound would carry everywhere. As Anderson stepped, he passed by the deck that led to the first and bottom floor; and out of the corner of his eye, he saw a figure running through the hallway, dressed exactly as Alucard had been. _"You've grown predictable and docile, vampire."_

Jumping down onto the first floor, Anderson grunted loudly to make the figure stop and turn to look straight at him. Indeed, the figure was Alucard; the glowing red eyes, the long flowing black hair, the straightjacket and trench coat combination; even the ring of blood in the regenerated arm from where it had been severed. Anderson wasted no time in launching another barrage of blades, striking and skewering the vampire into the nearby stone wall, a shocked look plastered on his face.

Stepping forward tauntingly slow with a triumphant grin on his face, Anderson watched the stuck vampire bleed onto the floor like a pig on a spear; the gurgling noises as blood poured from its mouth only added to the grin as the vampire slowly began to melt away, its face as though in molten wax. Stopping in front of the vampire, Anderson stood only feet from the creature, suppressing his laughter as best he could while he watched it dissolve away.

Except, to his surprise and chagrin, the vampire did not simply melt away into oblivion as he had hoped. Instead, the outer layer of it dissolved and fell away, revealing a blond, white-skinned vampire with green eyes, wearing a white suit and glasses and holding its mouth open like a statue. Anderson's expression suddenly became one much more stunned and worried; Alucard had deceived him, laid a trap and sent a double of himself to distract him.

Then, in a total moment of shock, from the mouth of the stuck vampire emerged Alucard's coat-sleeved right arm, punching Anderson in the side of the head and spinning him around to face the opposite way. Anderson was stunned, and he suddenly felt himself stop jarringly, coupled with a sudden jabbing pain in his left arm; and for a second, he was too dazed to put it all together. That quickly faded, however, and he came to realize what had happened.

Alucard had used his decoy to sneak up behind Anderson, silent and unnoticed; and then, with two extra pairs of long, tendril-like arms covered in eyes that were jutting from his back, he had gripped Anderson's limbs and held him still. Then, with his own, real right arm, he had shoved his karate chop-like hand straight through the inside of Anderson's left elbow, severing it cleanly. A low moan of pain escaped the Paladin's lips, reciprocated by a sadistic smile from the vampire.

With his free left hand, the vampire then delivered a powerful punch to the Paladin's chest, freeing him from the four extra arms and sending him sliding back along the floor. While Anderson went backwards, he launched six bayonets to cut through all of Alucard's arms; but Alucard proved too fast, and he drew his new and larger Jackal to fire a round straight at Anderson's right shoulder. Though Alucard's arms came flying off, the bullet tore away all of Anderson's arm; then, it exploded in the concrete wall, blasting rock debris into Anderson's back and planting him face-down onto the floor.

"When will they ever learn?" Alucard then questioned as masses of shadows erupted from the stumps of his true arms, one grabbing the hand cannon before they both changed into replacement arms. "No matter how pure-bred or how well trained, no attack dog will ever compare to an Alpha Wolf…

Having jumped out the window, Seras had slid down the side of the building with her feet, and watched to her amazement what had taken place. The grounds of the prison were littered in the bloody sand from the destruction of Ghouls and FREAKs; and at the gates of the prison, the three Agents stood firmly, blasting away rounds from their Walther PPKs without any hesitation. Only a small fraction of the horde remained anymore; and those few Ghouls were marching towards the agents, starving and unwittingly heading for their doom.

By the time Seras hit the ground, however, she had realized the situation was not quite so ideal. The agents had stopped firing, and were now pressing themselves against the doors of the prison tightly. Seras knew right away what the problem was, and it was just as she had feared; though she and Alucard has destroyed most of the creatures, those that remained had overwhelmed the agents and had forced them to expend all the ammunition they had.

"Are you alright?" Seras shouted at the men, causing several of the ghouls to turn back in her direction. When the agents nodded to her that they were okay, she jumped back up into the air, perhaps forty feet or so, and landed in such a way that her feet vertically bisected a pair of ghouls. Immediately she also punched straight through the heads of two more, creating enough of a distraction for the three agents to jump into action as well.

"That was a well-timed sortie, Seras," Connery yelled as he slid through the crowd of ghouls, his open hand beheading at least twenty ghouls by the time he reached Seras. "We didn't have must time left if we couldn't bloody fight back; it's a good thing you showed up when you did."

"I'll say," Moore added, likewise sliding through the crowd of ghouls and beheading sixteen of them with cold precision. "You've received better training from Hellsing than some of MI-6's finest; after all, to have taken out that many ghouls in such quick succession is… well, simply put, unheard of."

"Quit with all the pointless stammering you two," Brosnan responded snidely to both men, gliding through the ghouls as though on ice skates and taking the heads off eighteen of them. "We can pat each other on the back later; first, we have to finish these guys off. Speaking of which, where's Alucard?"

"He's locked in a fight with Alexander Anderson from Vatican Section XIII," Seras responded quickly, phasing behind a pair of Ghouls and severing their heads with her hands. "He sent me out here to help you three out, while he deals with Anderson alone."

"Old Angel Dust is here?" Brosnan questioned incredulously, removing his suit jacket and pulling out a pair of machetes while it fell to the ground. He then threw them like boomerangs, causing them to slice through ten ghouls before each spun around for him to catch with the opposite hand to before. "I know France is formerly Catholic and all, but what are the chances that he'd happen to meet up with Alucard the very day he arrived?"

"He probably planned the whole thing you arrogant bastard," Moore responded, producing two long-swords from his own coat while he discarded it. Tossing one to Agents Connery, he charged and sliced through thirteen Ghouls before adding, "Remember the incident in England one year ago? Enrico Maxwell sent ten vampires from Italy to England to infect locals, giving him an excuse to send in the Papal Knights to 'deal with the outbreak'."

"Deal with it my arse," Connery added, growling while the blade he had been given sliced its way through twelve Ghouls in quick succession. "Does two million dead and five million more wounded sound like he dealt with anything except his own genocidal crusade? Even Hell is too good for that pious rat bastard."

"Even so, though…" Seras argued, finally phasing over to the last five Ghouls and kicking them in half before stopping to turn to the three agents. "…Anderson displayed open hatred, disgust and contempt for Maxwell's actions, to the point where he even recommended execution for war crimes. There's no way Anderson planned this. But, even so, it does seem strange that Anderson would know to find us here." Stopping for a second to think, she then gasped and uttered, "Unless…"

"Unless Anderson is the one who called in the situation to head office," Connery responded, interpreting her line of thought. "It makes sense now that I think about it; all the guards are trapped in a tower with no communications, and I didn't see anybody else around for kilometres. This place is in the middle of nowhere, after all; and nobody is allowed to visit a super-max facility like this one."

"God damn it, why didn't I figure that out before?" Agent Connery groaned, re-sheathing his knives and picking up his jacket to pull it back on. "Of course, it's so obvious now. I don't know how Anderson knew to come here or when he did; but it was pretty clear from the number of Ghouls that this didn't just happen before we got here. He lured Alucard into a trap."

"Except that even a Regenerator like Anderson is nothing before the Lord of Vampires," Moore reminded his comrade. "Besides, we have bigger problems to worry about. We need to go deal with the guards in the tower and get them to safety. Only after that can we go in after Alucard; and, odds are, only after that would he want us to." When all four of the English Undead nodded at this point, they all started running towards the lookout tower where the guards were holed up.

"_Dear God,"_ Seras thought in total nervousness, trying to hide her thoughts in the heat of the moment, _"I hope we're not too late…"_

Staring down at the pile of rubble where the wall had exploded, Alucard sneered while he walked forward, ready to inspect the damage. He knew that Anderson had been hit, and that the massive bullet had turn his arm away. He knew the Regenerator has also received a blast of brick fragments when the bullet detonated. What he did not know was if that had been enough to silence his target as he wished.

His answer came quickly and with certainty. As he neared the body, the severed arm lying on the ground exploded into a burst of light, blinding Alucard for a moment. When the light had faded, the walls of the compound were covered in Vatican Seals, nailed in place while they gave off a radiant golden glow. Turning back to the body, he discovered that Anderson too had vanished; and immediately he knew something was afoot.

As he turned to fire more, a series of a dozen bayonets flew out from the darkness, piercing the vampire's torso completely and almost giving him enough shock from the impact to drop his large handgun. Out from the shadows then stepped Anderson, who threw yet another bayonet straight into Alucard's face. Grunting, the vampire fell onto his knees while his head snapped back, spraying his dark blood all over the ceiling and walls.

"You're out of options, Nosferatu," Anderson hissed with his sadistic smile, pulling out two more of his blades and crossing them in front of him while he walked closer. "Did you really think I'd rush head-long into battle a third time without studying you? I saw the effects of your precious handguns, and your Hellhound servants; you have no tricks to surprise me anymore." While he spoke, the blades fell out of Alucard's body into the large, growing pool of blood at his feet, while the vampire's empty eyes looked as though they saw into Anderson's soul.

Then, a small, low laugh escaped the vampire's slack, hung open mouth, prompting Anderson to stop in his tracks and stare darkly at Alucard. "And what exactly is so funny to you, vampire? Are you truly so unstable as to savour death?"

"Death is of no consequence to me; not from you, Chihuahua of the Catholic Church," Alucard spat, pointing at the enraged Priest. "But it seems despite your patience and perfectionist studies, there is something you've forgotten, father Anderson; remember those 'Hellhound' Familiars you mentioned?"

"Of course I do, filthy barking mongrels…" Anderson grunted, lifting up his head in a look of contempt and annoyance. "What's your point?" A second later, he heard the sound of fast-moving feet on the concrete floors, half-answering his question and leaving him slightly stunned.

"I only ever recalled one." The look of horror that came over Anderson's face at this realization was cut short as one of the huge black wolf-like creatures jumped from the darkness behind Alucard, landing on Anderson and pinning him to the ground. Slobber and the blood of countless vampires fell from its mouth as it snapped and growled at the Priest, who had crossed his bayonets in front of his face to escape its bite. In a triumphant effort, he slashed upwards and beheaded the creature, standing up while the recesses of its body fell onto the floor.

"Is that the best you have to offer me?" Anderson asked, his right eye twitching as he held up his blades madly. From Alucard's expression, however, he quickly deduced the answer to be 'no'. Such ideas were confirmed by the sound of growling from behind him; and as he spun around, he moved with enough reflex to behead two more of the wolf-demons, one on either side of him, as they jumped past.

Turning around to face his kills, however, Anderson discovered that his sentiments of victory were fallacious. The bodies of the wolves simply decayed back into shadowy masses of centipedes and eyes, reforming themselves back into the drooling and snarling pack of beasts Anderson had thought he had just slain. Soon two more stepped out from the shadows behind their kin, the countless red eyes of all five beasts glaring at Anderson while Alucard cackled darkly and stood back up.

"And now, Dog for the Vatican," Alucard sneered, holding one of his hands outstretched to his side, "I give you a literal dogfight." Snapping the fingers on his hand, Alucard prompted all five wolves to jump straight at Anderson, forcing the Priest to jump quickly from side to side in order to dodge their hungry jaws. Every few seconds he would manage to slice the heads off two or three of the beasts and jump to safety; but they simply regenerated, jumping back at him and slashing him with their claws.

Eventually, Anderson jumped past the five wolves and ran straight at Alucard, bayonets primed to pierce the No-Life King's rotted heart once and for all. Immediately though, Alucard passively raised his small-rifle-sized handgun and fired straight into the bayonets, exploding them violently and forcing Anderson to back up. From behind him the wolves then circled back around, ready to leap upon him; but with a dark smile, Anderson reached into his pocket and jumped sideways, looking to land on the floor.

"How pathetic," Alucard mused, readying to fire again but being stopped by the sound of a gunshot and a ripping pain in his chest. Looking over, he saw that Anderson had pulled out a large, golden handgun the same size as the Jackal and fired. The gun itself had the phrase _Quis est Deus_ etched along its barrel on its left side and _Caelitus Mihi Vires_ its right, creating a very illustrious appearance. In the hand of Anderson, the gun looked an odd fit for a man accustomed to blades; but even so, Alucard found it a fitting show of imitation and flattery.

Reaching to pull his own trigger, however, Alucard realized that his hands would not move. From in his chest he felt a burning sensation, as though flames had broken out there. Suddenly, a golden glow erupted from the wound like strands of rope, binding Alucard's hands and feet into a crucifixion pose. Blue flames then surrounded his body, causing his form to dissociate into a black mass of eye-covered shadows trapped within their bindings. Only his face remained, frozen in a look of horror.

"You're not the only one with special bullets," Anderson said, standing up and unleashing another spray of many bayonets while he walked forwards. These shot Alucard straight back and pinned him to a wall, his shadowy form bound in place by the flames. "The jackets of the 13mm bullets in this gun, 'The Michael Sword', are made from the melted-down Nail of Helena, the most Holy of Catholic Artefacts. Blessed with the blood of Our Lord Jesus Christ, even the King of Monsters cannot escape their Sacred Power."

Alucard was utterly stunned by what he was being shown. His five wolves all groaned and howled in pain as they dissolved away, being reduced to black pools of blood on the floor. His own body was immobile, stuck to a wall as though Crucified; and as Anderson got closer, an expression of satisfaction crossed his face while he put The Michael Sword away and held up bayonets. "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust."

Raising up his left hand to swing, Anderson uttered from his mouth, "Though sin and blackness stain thy soul, may His mercy be with you and give thee deliverance. May He stay you from Hell's flames and give thee refuge in Holy Absolution. Be ye thankful for His kindness and accept his gift of a swift, merciful death. Amen." With that his left arm swung, slashing Alucard diagonally from his right ear to the underside of his left arm. In a spray of blackened blood, Alucard's upper body utterly dissolved, falling onto the floor at the feet of the rest of his corpse while it slowly melted off the bayonets.

Left only with a cross-like pattern of blood burned into the stone wall and the melted remains of his foe at his feet, Anderson let out a loud and triumphant bellow of a laugh…

Having just gotten to the remaining security guards and grabbed them to take to safety, Seras had felt certain of herself and as though she had nothing but praise in her near future. That feeling shattered when the sound of Alucard's voice, moaning in pain and amidst the gurgling of spilled blood, emanated in the back of her head, making her stop and stare blankly, much to the confusion of the MI-6 agents.

"Special Agent Victoria…" Brosnan immediately asked, shaking the girl's shoulder while he asked her urgently. "What's wrong? Are you alright? We have to hurry up before…" The sound of his words was cut off by the sound of a metal blade embedding in concrete; and that sound got the attention of all four vampires and their rescued humans.

Standing there, psychotic smirk of his face and glasses reflecting white light to cover his eyes, Anderson stood looking down upon the British vampires, a bayonet embedded in the floor and his overcoat completely covered in blackened blood. In his spare hand he held Alucard's Jackal MK-II, which he immediately threw straight into Seras' outstretched arms, much to her horror.

"Your precious little master is little more than a pile of putrid flesh and blood seeped into the floors of this prison now," He told her, yanking The Michael Sword from his pocket and swiftly aiming it straight at her. "But since you're a lady and I'm sworn to chivalry, I'll be nice enough to let you join him now." Hearing these words made the humans behind the vampires cower back; and Seras, who had been stunned, gained a look of rage on her face as she pointed the gun to fire at Anderson.

To her surprise, however, she discovered that she could not use the weapon at all. Though it was still loaded and she was strong enough to hold it, the magazines were so long that the gun's grip was too large for her petit hands. Reacting to Anderson's shot, she deflected the bullet with the Jackal MK-II's titanium body, sending the round ricocheting around until it simply splintered into the floor. The then jumped forward at the priest, punching him in the face hard enough to make his head snap back.

"Impudent little bitch!" Anderson snapped, spinning around and throwing a bayonet straight at her. The holy blade then pierced her stomach, causing her to vomit blood at the Priest's shoes while he prepared to shoot her point-black. However, he got no chance for this; because out of nowhere Connery jumped forwards, tackling Anderson aside and sparing the girl further harm.

Standing up, he turned to his subordinate agents and yelled, "Take her and the humans to safety. Angel Dust and I have an old score to settle!" Obliging, Moore and Brosnan started running quickly, followed closely by the humans and Seras, who had pulled the blade from her abdomen and had continued on her way. Alone in the corridor now, Connery smirked as Anderson stood back to face the Scottish Agent.

"It's been far too long, Angel Dust," Connery added, unbuttoning his black suit jacket while Anderson stared at him. "At first I thought you'd be surprised to see me; but now I realize you must have known your little crucifixion stunt with the bayonets wouldn't work on me. That might kill a human, a fledgling vampire, even a FREAK; but against a True Undead like me, it's useless."

"You still love to run your mouth at me, don't you?" Anderson questioned, taking aim with The Michael Sword again. "Such a rebellious attitude as yours was unfit for the Catholic Church then, and it still is now. The Protestant hypocrites may see use for you; but to me, you're still just a Judas who needs to be hanged."

"The Anglicans suit me just fine, Angel Dust," Connery responded. "I've done a lot of good work for the British Crown since the War, more than I'd ever have accomplished under that madman Maxwell you served so blindly." Leaving it at that, Connery stuck out his right arm sideways and produced a large weapon in a flash, pointing it and shooting Anderson's hand with The Michael in it before the Paladin could even react.

Upon seeing the gun stop, Anderson identified it as Connery's old service weapon; a Winchester Model 70 rifle, modified with a shorter barrel and stock to be used as a handgun. However, as the case ejected, Anderson saw something he did not expect; Connery continued to finger the trigger of his empty rifle repeatedly. At first Anderson found it desperate; but then, without his own control, his own gun began firing off straight at Connery, who jumped around with his cat-like reflexes until The Michael's slide finally cocked back and its empty magazine fell out.

"I might have almost a century on you," Connery told the enraged Paladin, "but this old dog still has a few tricks up his sleeve. You're now out of your precious holy bullets." However, seconds later, a burning pain resounded in Connery's right arm, where a stream of blue flames erupted from than engulfed his own body. As he fell down into his knees and grunted, he said, "Damn, I'm getting slower in my old age…"

"It's the end of the line for you, Judas," Anderson declared, using his bayonet-wielding hand to sever his own gun arm at the elbow. As it fell to the ground, the arm dissolved into a huge bundle of page of the Holy Bible, which immediately rose back up and reformed an arm. Pulling out a bayonet with it, Anderson walked over and shoved both weapons through the vampire's lungs, causing the creature to hack up dark red blood.

However, seconds later, the hacking stopped and a low, confident chuckle escaped the mouth of the vampire, much to Anderson's displeasure. "How can you be pleased at a time like this? It's over for you, my old friend; your life ends here. Miserable, alone, and forgotten, at the hands of the very church you betrayed. What exactly can you find amusing of such a pitifully ironic end?"

"That you think you've won so easily," Connery answered darkly, indicating the pool of blood at his feet. "Have you learned nothing of Alucard yet, Angel Dust? He is the Lord of Darkness, the Master of the Undead, the Perfect and True Immortal vampire… And you believe him to be bested after a single round? Please; he's just getting his second wind, and you've given him all he needs to best you."

"Stop with your ignorant bragging!" Anderson snapped, extending three long nail-like spikes from his hand and slashing the vampire across the face. However, when the chuckling simply continued, he grabbed the vampire by the face and held him up, asking angrily, "What did you mean, heathen bastard? Tell me!"

"You've spilled my blood, and added it to the sanguine ocean already in this building…" Connery answered, confident even as Anderson dropped him to the floor. As he spoke, huge volumes of blood began to rise up from the floor and pour down in streams from the ceiling, mixing together until a massive pool formed at their feet. "Now he knows where you are, and everything is set."

Reaching to end Connery permanently, Anderson stopped when he heard the sound of Alucard's own deep voice chuckling; then, he turned to the window when he saw a red glow outside. The Hellsing Seal from Alucard's gloves had formed above the prison, sweeping for kilometres. Then, Anderson heard the disembodied voice say, _"Releasing control art restriction system to Level One. Situation A. Approval of the Cromwell Initiative is acknowledged. Maintain limit release and unlock powers until the target has been eternally silenced…"_

Without warning, Anderson saw the blood jump out from the massive pool in dozens of tendrils, which pierced straight through his body and out the other side. He screamed out in pain while the blood pool converted into a mass like a tree, throwing him down the hallway while it clustered together further, into a scarecrow-like shape. More blood then rushed forth in deluges from the hallways, ceiling and floor, rushing into the mass and fusing into it.

"Foul beast of Satan," Anderson spat as he stood up. The tendrils of blood started to come together with the blood, fusing and forming a human body before him. Clad in a crimson leather straight jacket-like outfit, the body's clothes includes many straps; knee-height boots and elbow-length gloves fused into the main body; white hands to the gloves complete with the Hellsing Seal in glowing red; a flowing trench coat-like coattail held in place by straps; puffed shoulders and trailing cloak-like fabric also like Alucard's coat; and a large collar, within which a black shadow much like a closed eye floated.

A second later, this eye opened and revealed within itself the face of Alucard, now surrounded by silky waist-length hair at his back and chest-length pieces on either side of his face. His red eyes and his look of sheer insanity showed off his lust for battle; and as he appeared, Thebean writing much like the seal appeared along the walls in blood red, causing all the Holy Seals on the walls to burst into flames and fall to the floor.

"Your pathetic Holy Magic is worthless in my presence Anderson," Alucard growled, his hair covering over the right side of his face as he spoke. "But I must congratulate you; you are the first human to ever behold my Level One form. Admire it, for it will be the last thing you ever see!" Having said these words, Alucard's power generated an intense volley of winds, sending his coat and his hair flying as Anderson looked upon him with a look of disgust.

"So… I see that not even Hell with accept you anymore, Alucard!" Anderson bellowed, causing The Michael Sword to jump back into his hand as though by some unseen force. He then pulled a new magazine out of his coat and loaded it into the gun, letting an eager Alucard watch as he did so. Taking aim with the gun, he let out a volley of rounds; but much to his chagrin, Alucard effortlessly dodged every single one of them before rushing straight at Anderson.

Getting within an arm's length of the Paladin, Alucard outstretched his left hand into an open paddle, striking with reflexes to shame lightning and slicing straight through Anderson's outstretched gun hand from fingers to shoulder. The mad Priest let out a moan of pain and arched his back as his gun, his fingers and the severed outer half of his arm fell to the floor; but in the blink of an eye, he brought his other hand around and shoved one of his bayonets straight through Alucard's face.

Jumping backwards, Anderson watched as his own spilling blood produced a replacement arm from the stump of the old one, grafting together perfectly. However, Alucard's own blood was at work; as Hermetic symbols appeared on the bayonet and cancelled the blessings, it fell to the floor and Alucard rushed again, this time to deliver a punch that shot straight through the regenerator's chest, right at his sternum, before spinning his body and kicking Anderson in half at the point of impact.

As Anderson fell over onto the floor, Alucard jumped backwards, the amused grin on his face growing even more psychotic as the severed pieces of Anderson's body reconnected, allowing the Paladin to stand up just in time to throw a barrage of bayonets straight at Alucard. In response, the powerful vampire outstretched his two arms and produced stumps from which ten identical but un-gloved arms grew, catching all of the bayonets at the cost of being severed.

"Is that truly the best you have to offer me?" Alucard questioned while the two stumps turned black and grew out, becoming covered with eyes as they transformed into a pair of large dog heads. "Even as the Trump Card of Iscariot and the Ace Warrior of the Vatican, you can show me no better than this? Even that piece of shit who dared call himself a Major put up a better fight than you 56 years ago, right after I cut his armies to ribbons and before I did the same to him. The Last Battalion? That was a challenge. You, my friend, are nothing but a bone for my familiars to chew on!"

With these words, Alucard deployed the heads of the dogs straight towards Anderson on long tendrils of shadow, moving towards him with their heads turned on their sides and closing their jaws upon his body. Less than a second later though, the sound of two gunshots rang out and the heads exploded into clouds of blood from around Anderson revealing the Paladin standing there with The Michael Sword pointed at Alucard.

"To hell with thee, foul Black Magic heathen!" Anderson yelled as he fired yet another round at Alucard, who jumped forwards to dodge the bullet. As he shot forwards it grazed the side of his face, causing blood to trail behind him until he landed, where it started to trickle at his feet. Then, he looked up at Anderson, the seals on his hands glowing intensely, and seemingly from nowhere the Jackal MK-II appeared in his hand. As though synchronized, both men fired their guns in the same instant, striking and exploding the gun-wielding hands everywhere.

"If you want to send me to Hell, Judas Priest," Alucard chided as both parties hands regenerated, and all the blood from the room came together into a single pool at his feet, "then you'll have to escort me there personally!" Holding out his right hand outstretched, Alucard summoned the blood from the floor upwards in a long stream, where it spiralled together and formed a long handle; then, a bayonet-like blade formed at one end and a long, Reaper-like scythe formed at the other, complete with a black shadow blade covered in eyes.

"_Sorry Walter, but today the role of Harbinger of Death will be played by yours truly…"_ With a dark sneer on his face, Alucard pointed the scythe end of his weapon, which was easily as large as his entire torso, straight at Anderson and said, "If you are a true warrior of God, then you will not hesitate or back down here. Come now, show me what you still have to fight with. I've me a full taste of the Finest of Iscariot's power is. Come on, hurry up! Hurry up! Hurry! HURRY!"

Sneering psychotically, Anderson drew a trio of bayonets in each hand, holding them between his fingers like claws, and pointed them all at Alucard with crossed arms before saying, "Then it is here that the dark and twisted tale of the Vampire Alucard ends, doomed to face eternal damnation for the acts he has committed against Our Lord Jesus Christ and the Catholic Church. Sink to the depths of hell and rot away in the fire and brimstone of Satan's wrath! AMEN!"

Again, both men started running forwards and eventually jumped into the air with forward momentum, closing the gap between them in seconds. Anderson's bayonets, covered in the Catholic scriptural runes, shone as they passed through the light; and Alucard's blade, the polar opposite, became covered in glowing red Theban symbols in nearly the same instant. With the thunderous clash of Mjöllnir, the two met in a splay of blood and a massive burst of energy, seemingly pausing in midair for a split second before both shot past each other and landed on the ground.

Landing on his own two feet, Alucard looked down with a masochistic smile as he looked at the six bayonets in his chest, glistening with their holy metal. As the scythe in his hand melted back into blood, the six blades became covered in more Hermetic symbols, eventually cancelling each other and falling to the floor. There, they slowly sank into the blood pool created, which Alucard immediately thereafter sucked back into his body before turning around, a satisfied smirk on his face.

Anderson, who had landed near Connery, was down on his hands and knees, trembling and with blood pouring from his chest. The scythe's blade had cut straight through him on his left side, from the top of his head down to the bottom of his rib cage; and at the edges of the wound were red flames, the same colour as Alucard's seals. His wounds continued to spill blood as he grunted in agony, eventually coughing up more blood as he laid grovelling in pain.

"Not so pleasant to feel the flames of enemy power, is it Vatican Whipping Boy?" Alucard questioned, stepping towards the holy man and grabbing his enormous handgun as he approached. "Unlike you, I always learn from my opponents and use those lessons to my advantage. Your grazing my face was no slip of mine; it was to absorb a minute amount of the round's power, so I could reconstitute it and stop your regeneration cold. Not bad, huh?" As he could not respond in words, Anderson growled angrily, furious that the heathen vampire had used his own holy weapon to best him.

Looking down at his own hand, Alucard saw that he still had a minute trace of his own blood dripping down his face from the grazing shot. Turning to his side, he flicked it and it handed on the grazing wound from Connery's arm, where it burst into crimson flames that immediately broke those surrounding the MI-6 vampire. Seeming relieved, he then stood up to approach Anderson as well, drawing his Winchester again.

Stepping back over to Anderson, Alucard used his left foot and kicked the man over onto his back, at which time he snapped his fingers and released the flames from around the Paladin's wound. Immediately the line in his flesh healed back over, leaving only entrails of blood and a broken pair of glasses to prove the injury has ever existed. Sneering at Anderson, he put his foot on the man's chest and said, "That's checkmate, Father Anderson. You have nothing you can do now."

Looking at the angry growling face of the priest, Alucard's face changed from his usual sadistic smirk to one that seemed more professional, even solemn, as he cleared his throat and said, "but enough of this petty skirmish. I know full well you didn't come all the way to France just to lure me out to some hellhole prison. You're here for the same reason I am; there's a true undead in our midst, and it poses a threat to the lives of everyone in the area, civilian or otherwise."

"And what of it, Alucard?" Anderson asked, pushing the vampire's foot off his chest and getting back up onto his feet. In response to this Connery pointed his gun at Anderson's face; but Alucard put his own hand on the top of the rifle, lowering its barrel to point at the floor. Amused by this move, Anderson questioned, "A show of good faith? How ironic from hell-spawned filth like you."

"Say what you will Anderson," Alucard told the priest as his hair and outfit slowly began to melt, eventually changing into red and then black masses before resuming the form of his usual outfit, minus hat and sunglasses. "But the fact remains that if we continue to fight like this, enjoyable as that may be, eventually one of us will kill the other; and then the loser will be too weak, and will fall victim to our common enemy. That is why I want a truce."

"A truce? Me, the Flagbearer of Vatican Section XIII Iscariot side with Hellsing's vampire hitman?" Anderson asked incredulously, trying to restrain his laughter. "Why on earth would I side with you? That's the most insane thing I've ever heard!" When Alucard's expression did not change, however, the gravity of the words set into Anderson's mind and he stated, "Although, I suppose, desperate times do call for desperate measures."

"This way, we can work with our combined resources and destroy the target for certain," Alucard deduced, sounding so tacticious that even he seemed to doubt his own words. "Once that has been accomplished, we can resume our own little quarrel, and have all the fun we want without having to worry." And then, to the surprise of anybody who would know them, the gloved hands of the two men clasped and shook, showing that the start of a partnership had begun.

By the time Alucard (returned to his Detective Holmwood disguise), Connery and Anderson made it back outside, Seras, Moore and Connery were in the middle of a group of French Secret Service agents, with the Director standing impatiently and waiting for the man himself. No doubt stood in Alucard's mind that the agents intended to grill – no, crucify – him and his team for the work they had done here.

« Qu'est-ce que c'est tous ces corps ici? » The man asked, indicating one of the many dead at his feet as Alucard stepped up to him and the other two stood off to the side. « Quand vous êtes sortis il y a trois heures, 5000 personnes dans cet institution vivaient. Maintenant ils sont tous morts. Je peux savoir pourquoi, cet instant. »

« C'est les résultats d'un vampire extrêmement agressive et désagréable, » Alucard informed the man, perhaps being a tad more snarky sounding than he planned. « C'est votre travail de éliminer tous les FREAKs qui exister, pour protéger les citoyens du pays.»

« Vous pensez, sans doute, que tous ce c'est très amusant. » The director responded, seeing Alucard's remarks as a sign that he did not take the consequences of his actions seriously. « Ce n'est pas ! Ils étaient les citoyens français, et ils étaient tués par les agent fédérale anglaise ! Comprenez-vous exactement que le media pensera quand ce histoire est découvert ? »

« Il n'était pas un action que vous pouviez faire, monsieur directeur… » Alucard started to explain patiently, but much to his chagrin he was cut off by the still-raging Frenchman.

« Ne m'appelez pas ca ! Il ne fait pas de différence si vous pouviez ou ne pouviez pas les tuer ca c'est qu'est-ce que c'est passé ! C'est vos responsabilités ! Vous êtes exactement comme tous les autres chiens britanniques vous continuez penser que vous pouvez faire tous ce que vous voulez aux français, et que ca c'est acceptable. Vous êtes dans mon pays, maintenant, Monsieur Holmwood, et vous ferez tout que je… »

The sentence of the director was cut short by Alucard reaching out and grabbing the enraged man's right forearm. Immediately he used his strength and bent the limb back far beyond its normal range, inverting the elbow and snapping the arm off at the halfway point. Almost everybody, save for the ever-smiling Alucard, was shocked and terrified at this violent course of action; and even more so seconds later, when the blood pouring from the wound produced a replacement arm for the man.

"Catholics certainly are fond of Regenerators," Alucard mused, grabbing the Frenchman by the collar. "Now listen to me and listen to me well, you pompous frog; because I know that you can speak English, and that you just want the British detectives under your direct command so you can show off to your people and your government. Well guess what? It doesn't work that way, _mon frère_; the only master I serve is Sir Integra Van Helsing of the Hellsing Organization. She is my one true superior; you are nothing to me but a client, a middle man who doesn't belong in the work I do."

« Mais… » the director started, clearly offended and enraged; but the dark look in Alucard's eyes told the man they he was dead serious, and that silence was the best course of action.

"Not another word out of you, if you expect to live beyond this moment. You called us here, and we will not leave until we have completed our mission; but we are not your errand boys. We will do our job; all I expect from you is to stay out of our way and let us do things they way we need to. _Comprenez-vous ca_?" When the French director nodded weakly, Alucard put him down and started off; but before he did, he stopped beside Seras and their eyes locked while he added, "Oh, and one last thing."

In less than the blink of an eye, Seras drew the Casull and Alucard the Jackal, and both placed the ends of their guns to the others' forehead. Immediately after that they pulled the triggers, sending each others' necks spanning back while blood sprayed from their foreheads. These wounds did not last long, however; and they were healed in a fraction of a second, allowing both parties to look back over at the stunned director.

"You can have all the Regenerators you want; but Agent Harker and I are the real deal; 'True Undeads.' Our kind long predate the artificial copies of us modern science would make, or the Regenerators made from our genetic codes. If you want vampires caught and dispatched, we are second to **none**." Turning to walk out again, he added to his group, "Come; we must tell our master of these events, and prepare for tonight."

"What's tonight that's so special?" Seras questioned of her master. While Anderson's body began to dissolve into glowing bible pages in the wind, Hellsing's operatives and the three MI-6 agents started forwards, this time phasing through the wall instead of scaling it. Once on the other side, Alucard turned to her, a sly grin on his face as he told her,

"An old associate of mine is in town; one who might be able to give us some valuable information…"


End file.
